Fuickleberry Saves the World: The First Adventure
by Cassprincess
Summary: The Dramatic & Badass Rescue of Mike Chang and Matt Rutherford. Sequel to World Famous Sugar Cookies. Forced baptism, Casino heists, Kidnappings, Revenge pants-ing. Carjackings. What did you do on your summer vacay? Total Cheese & Silly.
1. Chapter 1

I know. I know! I said _Monday_. But I really couldn't resist. And this is super short (for me, at least).

This is a cracked-out sequel to my first Glee Story **World Famous Sugar Cookies**. You totally have to read the first one in order to understand half of the stuff going on here. Eh...maybe not, but it couldn't hurt. ^^

Thanks to everyone who has followed me over here! The response to the first story was just so made of the awesome. All of your readers make it so very easy to want to write.

**Fuickleberry Saves the World: The Dramatic and Badass Rescue of Mike Chang and Matt Rutherford!**

**-Chapter One-**

*****August 2010*****

"Is there anyone out there? Can anyone hear us? Hellllooooooo? Guys, I don't think this is working."

"Finnderella, you are a first-class village idiot."

"NOAH, be _nice_!"

"Berry-pants, I _can't_ be nice to him if he's going to continue to prove that there is an IQ number below zero. So far I think he's at negative fifteen."

"You're an ass Puckerman."

"Quinn, that's not helping."

"HELLLLOOOOOO? IS ANYONE OUT THERE? Seriously, this walkie talkie thing is broken."

"Finn, it's not a walkie-talkie. We're attempting to record an internet transmission and will post it to see if anyone can hear us with the hope that someone will come and help us out of the unfortunate situation the four of us have found ourselves in."

"That would have worked better if you would have just let me call him a fucking brainless droolbag…"

***SMACK***

"DAMN QUINN! If you hit me that hard, I'm gonna wind up brain damaged like Forrest Gump over there."

"ENOUGH! BE QUIET OR I WILL CONSUME ALL OF THE OXYGEN IN THIS ROOM UNTIL YOU ALL PASS OUT AND FINALLY GIVE ME A MOMENT'S PEACE!"

…

…

…

…

"Hello…this is Rachel Berry. And if anyone out there is kind enough to download this podcast, _please_ help us. We're currently in one of the high security vaults of the Bellagio hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada. We're unfortunately quite trapped and literally have tried every means of escape. This all started eight weeks ago in Lima, Ohio…our friends, two highly talented young men, Michael "Mike" Chang and Matthew "Matt" Rutherford, ages sixteen, were taken _by force_ from their idyllic suburban life and relaxing summer vacation."

"_Less words, Berry-pants_. _They were kidnapped_."

"Someone _please_ help us before Rupaul uses up all of the oxygen in this room. Someone out there has to realize that we've been missing! Call the police and _help us_."

"And bring like, gallons of pop. I'm really thirsty. Also, a sandwich would be awesome."

"I hate you, Finderella. Like, fucking truly hate you sometimes."

"Whatever dude. You slept with my girlfriend. And you stole Rachel when you were eleven."

"Dude, you're a god damn cry baby. Berry-pants was _never_ yours to steal. And I wouldn't have knocked up Quinn if you hadn't of made out with Rachel in the first place…"

"EXCUSE ME? What are you talking about, Puck? You only slept with me because you were all jealous about Man-hands-"

"I'm ending this transmission now and posting it. Daddies? If you're listening, your precious daffodil is safe and so is Noah. Although if he keeps aggravating me, I will have to kill him. It will be my first foray into violence, but I believe that in the end, a jury of my peers will find that the murder was just. If anyone can hear us…please send help."

*****June 2010*****

"This is…this is a horrible atrocity. Our very best dancers have just been kidnapped!" Rachel squealed in annoyance. She pushed Noah towards the truck and grabbed Finn and Quinn by the elbows, steering them towards the pickup. "We have to follow them and make sure that they're safe. For the good of the Glee club's future. For our friend's future. We have to save Matt and Mike! Noah, for the sake of our whole…world, you have to catch up to that truck!"

"DRIVE PUCK!" Quinn harshly commanded.

Puck didn't need two of the most important girls in his life telling him twice. The four of them squashed together on the bench seat of his truck. He only had to take one look into Rachel's worried, tear-filled eyes and his foot was slamming on the gas, in hot pursuit of the kidnapped Mike and Matt.

"Berry-pants, do you have your phone on you?" Puck demanded suddenly, his foot pressing the gas pedal to the floor of his truck. He recklessly sped through the streets of Lima, Ohio with a sort of ease that indicated it wasn't the first time he had gone seventy-five miles an hour in a twenty-five zone.

"Daddies just got me one to celebrate a highly successful year," Rachel whipped out her brand new smart phone. She grinned and said, "I can make posts directly to the internet…it will come in so very useful when inspiration strikes, which you know can happen at any-"

"Quinn, make sure you add Rachel to your friends list on the Friendtracker app," Puck ordered.

"Ugh," Quinn cringed, glaring at Rachel, who was crammed in next to her on the crowded seat. "I can see her right here. Your sweater is hideous, by the way."

Rachel frowned and looked down at her powder blue cardigan which she had layered on top of a lovely pink button down.

"I'm not asking you to add her to your facebook, just get the number in!" Puck demanded harshly. Quinn made a lot of exasperated sounds but finally did as she was told. Puck took Rachel's new phone out of her hands, he brought the shiny new gadget to his mouth and pressed a wad of chewing gum on the back of it before he passed it to Finn. "You only get one shot. It has to land on the top, and you better hope that it lands flat so it sticks there as long as possible. No interceptions, Finny D."

"Right," Finn nodded as the engine to Puck's truck roared even louder as Puck sped closer to the Black Cadillac Escalade that was still two blocks away from them.

"WAIT! What! That was a gift from my Daddies! I worked very hard to earn that!" Rachel yelped, trying in vain to get a hold of Finn's hands and extradite her kidnapped iPhone. "NOOOOOOO!"

Quinn giggled as Finn leaned out the window to Puck's car and chucked the phone with a strength that made her think that the football team may win more than one that season. Rachel's scream died in her throat and Quinn looked down at her phone to avoid Rachel's intensely angry look.

"We've got it," she marveled. She looked at Puck in amazement. "That was really…like resourceful. And smart."

"Thanks for noticing, not too shabby for a Lima loser, yeah?" Puck smirked back at her, although his eyes seemed cold and slightly angry.

"Noah, you're _not _a Lima loser. Please stop even thinking about saying it," Rachel insisted strongly.

"This is too creepy, the two of you are creeping me out," Quinn wrinkled her nose. She looked to Finn and saw that he too was looking strangely at Puck and Rachel.

"They're heading East. I don't think they realize that we're following them, or else they would probably be going much faster," Rachel realized as the car they were following rapidly made its way towards Route 30.

"Well good. We'll follow them until they stop and get our boys back," Quinn nodded firmly. She felt Finn squirm beside her slightly and she looked to him in the annoyance that had been coming so easily to her these days. "WHAT?"

"…I gotta pee."

####

What have Fuickleberry gotten themselves into? Can an iphone really stay on the roof of a speeding car on the highway? And how lucky that it _hopefully_ landed gum side down? Is Puck really secretly MacGuyver? Will anyone download a podcast titled "SAVE US SAVE US SAVE US YOU SELFISH FUCKERS!"? Will Finn ever get to go to the potty? (He totally should have went before they started their road trip.

All of these questions should probably be answered...Monday! (For real-ios, this time) Much love Gleeks!


	2. Chapter 2

I'm always EARLY. Seriously, it's like a disease. My friends and family actually give me _incorrect_ times to social gatherings and events so that I show up a little less early than I would normally. It's a disease, I tell you. A disease!

Happy Sunday, everyone! Celebrate the dismal end of the weekend with a chapter full of ridiculous silliness. No really, take _nothing_ seriously. Suspend disbelief and I'll give you a cookie. For anyone who lives in Ohio, my apologies. I looked on google maps for names and I have no idea what they actually look like. And I hope that everyone can follow along with the first part to each chapter. It's fun to just write dialogue and not worry about pesky descriptions.

Thanks for the super duper response to the story! You guys are readers of the highest ranks of badassity.

**-Chapter Two-**

*****August 2010*****

"Duuuuuuuuude."

"SHUT UP FINN-dummy!"

"I can't help it. I gotta go."

"Finn, I don't want to make you feel bad about yourself. But _please_ believe me when I say this. I absolutely refuse to sing or hum so that you can relieve yourself."

"O.M.G. Rupaul just refused to sing. The apocalypse must be right around the corner."

"Don't worry, no one will have to sing, because I'm gonna wet my pants."

"Too bad they don't make pull-ups in fucking _doofus_ size."

"Man, I'm so sick of you ragging on me. This whole summer has been you trying to make me feel…like dumb or something."

…

…

…

…

"Are you _**fucking**_ serious? YOU ARE DUMB, you asshole. Instead of whining about it, you should be _embracing_ it. You could have gotten gold in all the events at that god damned special Olympics. We could have sweet parking like Artie's dad, **all the time** if we could just declare you mentally fucking handicapped. You seem to forget that every bad thing that happened this summer was cause of your stupid ass circus peanut brain or your retardedly small bladder!"

"That's was very verbose, Noah. Are you lying about something?"

"What are you on about Man-hands? Seriously? Is this another secrete jedi mind-meld thing that you and Puck do? You can like, psychically tell when Puck is lying?"

"He just happens to say a lot of words when he's attempting to either stretch the truth or hide something. There are many funny anecdotes that I could recount that would illustrate this point."

"Yeah, yeah, we get it, Rach. From the whole time you and Puck were secret best friends. Right. And Quinn and me just happened not to see any of this."

"Cause you're dumb and blind as a dumb blind bat?"

"Lots of other people knew. Of course those are the very people that we're trying to reach with the podcast. Mike…Matthew, Brittany or Santana…even Tina and Artie. I just don't understand why this computer's internet connection only works with the Itunes…but if we can just get someone to download it…hold on. NOAH!"

"Yeah, Berry-pants?"

"What on earth did you title this podcast?"

"Save us, save us, save us. Like you told me to."

"Read the last words."

….

…

….

….

"Save us you selfish fuckers."

"WHAT ON EARTH WERE YOU THINKING? How are we supposed to get people to help us when you're blatantly insulting them? Are you trying to keep us trapped down here forever?"

"Chillax, Berry-pants. Someone will download this. They'll be amused by the title-"

"Oh the very insulting title? The horrendous title that will be sure to incite someone's good will and send us help?"

"I'd download it."

"Not. Helping. Finn."

"Sorry, Rach."

"Noah Puckerman, STOP edging away from me. You are going to get your well-deserved punishment. You aren't getting cookies for at least a year due to your ridiculous behavior this summer…."

"Is that a metaphor for sex, Rupaul?"

"What's a metaphor?"

"And I'm telling my Daddy J of all the life endangering situations that you forced me into…"

"WOAH, don't sic Jerome on me. You got yourself into plenty of crazy ass shit this summer—"

"STOP TALKING! I'm going to-I'm going to-"

"Scream us all to death?"

"ARRRRGHHH!"

"Berry-pants, no! NO- noooo! PLEASE STOP! Hahahaha…please oh god, I'm going to piss myself-stop! **Oh god!** Not the claw!"

…

…

"Huh, Quinn? I think this thing is still recording on the interhighway."

"That's just…_fabulous_."

*****June 2010*****

"Duuuuuuuuude."

"Shut up, Finn!"

The quartet of teenagers sat in silence once more. Minutes passed as they barreled down the highway at a speed way past the legal point. Route 76 flew past in a blur of concrete and slower cars. They were about one and a half miles behind Rachel's cellphone signal, which miraculously, had stuck on the roof the car they were trying desperately to catch up to. Finn squirmed against the passenger side door, his thigh sweating as it was glued to Quinn's. There wasn't much room in the cab of Noah's pickup, and they had been driving in 91 degree heat for the last two hours.

Finn's desperate need for the bathroom appeared moments after leaving Lima, and he had been behaving like a hyperactive, yet still morose toddler ever since. Quinn had pinched him every time he even tried to complain about their current situation. He was sure that he had bruises up and down his torso by that point. He couldn't understand why he had been seated next to the hormonal and post-partum Quinn, when Puck got the even tempered and pleasant Rachel. All of his annoyance only seemed to make his overly full bladder even more of a presence and it didn't take very long for him to begin to make impatient noises again.

"This sucks," he pouted. He felt the pinching on his left side immediately and he couldn't help but shout, "Dammit, Quinn! You're going to like…rupture my appendix or something."

"Except your appendix is on your _right_ side, Doofus McGee," Puck grumbled.

Rachel smiled at Puck then looked to Finn in a consolatory manner, "Noah only knows that because my daddy Micah had his removed three summers ago. I was inconsolable and-"

"Seriously? You're telling fun stories of you and _Noah_, now?" Quinn scoffed. "Are you insane? Have you been like…present the last six years? Puck _hates_ you. He's thrown a slushy in your face daily for the last two years."

"That's not true. I'd have to be like, loaded to be able to do that," Puck shrugged.

Rachel looked at Quinn in astonishment, her mouth gaping slightly as she stared between a clearly in-the-dark Quinn and Finn. She closed her mouth, only to shake her head slightly and open her mouth again.

"I thought-Santana would have told you," Rachel finally managed to say quietly.

"Tell me what? That you're looney tunes?" Quinn demanded.

"I hate to interrupt this really, _awesome_ hissy fit…but we have a problem," Puck said quietly. He didn't really want to hear Rachel's explanation of the last six years, anymore than she would have wanted to tell it. How do you tell your best friend's baby mama and your sort-of idiot boyfriend that you've secretly had a soul mate (and betrothed, if you counted his mother's opinion) for the last six years behind every one's back? And how in the hell would Rachel explain that she was being a martyr for his popularity? That is, without looking like a complete idiot.

"We didn't lose the signal," Quinn looked down at her phone and still saw the GPS tracking Rachel's phone up ahead.

"We're running out of gas," Rachel whispered, looking at Puck's dash board. "Oh, Noah. I told you to fill up last night when we got back from Mrs. Sokoloff-Leonardo's house."

"What? Where were you? You told me you were _busy_ last night!" Finn snapped suddenly.

"I was busy. Noah and I had a birthday party to attend. Our summer camp counselor's daughter turned-"

"We have to stop…" Puck interrupted. He veered off the exit.

"We should try to call someone," Quinn said suddenly. She looked at each of the other teenagers in the car and demanded, "Someone call someone and get us help, here."

"My daddies are on a cruise together. It's their 18th anniversary. They'll be gone for a month."

"My ma's at work. She doesn't even have a cell phone on her…"

"Burt, Kurt and my mom went camping," Finn said quietly.

"Kurt is camping?" Rachel and Quinn said simultaneously.

"Why aren't you camping? You were like…a boy scout and shit," Puck wondered.

"I wasn't invited. Burt is still pretty mad at me," Finn shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the current topic. He looked at Quinn and shrugged, "Can't you call someone?"

"Oh, let me think…I'll call my dad," She smirked ruefully and shook her head with a scoff, "Nope…can't do that. How about my mom? Who stopped talking to me again when she realized I was giving up her bastard grandchild for adoption. Nope that's a dead end there, too. I can't even call Mercedes because her family just left for vacation this morning, and her dad confiscated her cell phone so she could properly devote herself to family time."

"What about Tina and Artie? Santana and Brittany?" Puck wondered.

"I don't _talk_ to Tina and Artie, so therefore I don't have their numbers," Quinn mumbled. "And Santana deleted her and Brittany's numbers from my phone after the whole…babygate fiasco."

"I have every Glee club member's cell phone number. IN MY CELL PHONE. Which _you _ had Finn throw out the window," Rachel turned an annoyed glare Puck's way. She looked around anxiously and wondered, "Where _are_ we, Noah?"

"Western Star," Puck shrugged.

"Fitting," Quinn rolled her eyes. She leveled a glare Rachel's way and demanded, "Why didn't Mr. and Mr. Berry settle here instead of Lima?"

"They obsessively researched Ohio for the most liberal, left-leaning town they could. Lima was the best they could do," Rachel stated matter-of-factly. She felt the truck lurch to a stop suddenly and she gripped Noah's arm in sudden fright. "Please tell me that isn't what I think it is."

"We're done…we're out," Puck admitted morosely, pulling the truck over and letting it drift as the engine cut out completely. He swallowed and looked to the side of the road and said, "Gas station is five miles from here."

"Oh," Rachel made a slight, annoyed whimpering noise.

"FINALLY, I get to pee!" Finn said excitedly, jumping out of the truck and rushing to the side of the road.

The rest of the teenagers hopped out of the truck as well, Quinn obsessively watching her phone as the signal they were trying to follow got further and further away. They stretched their legs slightly and waited for Finn to join them so they could figure out their next move, but five minutes rolled by and he was still standing in front of a corn field, shuffling from foot to foot.

"DUDE, seriously? Just piss and get it over with!" Puck commanded.

"Can't," Finn whimpered. "You know I can't pee outside…I need a toilet."

"That's totally information that I never wanted to have," Quinn grumbled, smirking at an agreeing Rachel. "Are you going to be able to walk for gas without having peed first?"

"I'm going to die!" Finn wailed. He was seriously about to have a breakdown on the side of the road. He had never felt so uncomfortable in his life. It was like…waterboarding or something. He had never had to pee so badly and been so unable to pee before in his life.

"Dude, think about rushing water…"

"Babbling brooks…"

"A faucet dripping…"

Puck, Rachel and Quinn began to make what they deemed very impressive water sounds. Rachel immediately stopped when she heard Finn humming something, barely audible above the whooshing of water sounds coming from Puck and Quinn. Her classically trained ear picked up on it however and she whispered between Puck and Quinn, "He's humming the Friend's theme song."

"Well, they do have fountains in the opening credits," Quinn shrugged.

Puck rolled his eyes, unable to believe his luck. He should have consumed six slices of pizza by now, and then retired back to the Berry's house so that Rachel could have made him a fresh batch of cookies. It should have been a proper start to his summer. Not chasing after a Cadillac Escalade containing a kidnapped Mike and Matt, with the mother to the child he had given away, the girl of his mother's and maybe his dreams too, and the dumbest man on the planet. He wrinkled his nose, feeling a rage volcano from deep within him bubble and simmer, just ready to explode.

"BA nananana bah nah nah nah nah!" he practically shouted, kicking off the theme song he knew well. Seriously, Micah and Jerome Berry were _huge_ Friends fans.

The girls joined in quickly and they ba nana'd and doobee dooed their way through the theme song with a surprising amount of joy. Rachel and Quinn actually broke into giggles as they shouted the impromptu concert at the top of their lungs on the deserted roadway. Finn actually began _dancing_, if you could call it that. His upper body spazzed about, his head looking suspiciously like a bobble-headed variety.

"Cause you're there for me TOOOOOOOOooo ooooo oooooo ooooo!"

Quinn and Rachel were red in the face and out of breath from giggling and even Puck smiled as Finn turned around, his business finished. His mega-watt smile made him look like he was a toddler who had just successfully went in the potty for the first time. Puck shook his head in exasperated, albeit amused disbelief and demanded,

"Is your special time over now? Can we please go and save our friends now?"

"Yeah," Finn nodded with a dopey grin. "You know how I always told you that I come up with my best ideas when I'm taking a whiz?"

"**NO**!" Quinn and Rachel chorused together in identical disgust.

"Yeah, dude," Puck acknowledged.

"Well, I've got one right now."

**#####**

Seriously, what kind of computer only lets you use the internet through Itunes? Does the Bellagio have wicked firewall or what? And how can Quinn and Finn be the only Gleeks not to know about Puckleberry lurve? How many times has Finn's bladder caused near ruin to this quartet of traveling teens? Does the Friends theme song help _you_ to take a whiz? And good lord, why would **anyone** actually listen to an idea that Finn had while taking a whiz on the side of the road? Will Rachel tickle Noah to death? Or just tickle him to the point of major arousal? And seriously, all of Lima Ohio is on vacation? The cops too?

All of these answers and probably more than you want will be answered...Tuesday. Or you know, it's me. So it could be tomorrow too. Thanks for reading! Mmwwwwaaahhh!


	3. Chapter 3

Peoples. I cannot stop giggling. You'll see...

**Chapter Three**

*****August 2010*****

**Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!**

"Yo, Stupid VonStupidson, you're going to rupture the last ten brain cells you have left."

**Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!**

"Really, Finn, if you keep insisting on crushing your head against the wall in such an insanely brutal manner, it's going to swell. And I'm putting this as kindly as I can, but if your forehead becomes any larger, you will no longer be quirkily proportionate."

**Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!**

"Seriously? Rupaul's right. If you go from monster forehead to ginormous monster that ate the monster forehead? I will _totally_ never ever let you get to second base again. You know what I'll do? I'll eject you from the game, Finn. Immediately."

…

…

…

…

"The pain was making me forget about having to pee."

"I'd be willing to do you a solid, Finnderella. I'm going to punch you as hard as I can…but you have to remember the first rule of-"

"NOAH! Please desist with the violence and channel your considerably destructive and resourceful energies into _getting us out of here_."

"Yeah, really, Puck. Aren't you the boy who managed to get a herd of cows onto Coach Sylvester's front lawn during Spring break of our freshman year? Where did that boy go?"

"And man, remember when you flooded my basement? My mom still hates you. Also she hates you and sort of loves you at the same time for you being the one to knock Quinn up…"

"Noah…you are the same boy that has managed to _torture_ Rabbi Greenburg the last six summers. You are the same boy who made _slushy_ a verb. You are the same boy that has managed to not attend a math class in two years and still maintain a C plus average-"

"You have a C plus? Man, I suck up to Mrs. Grim and she still gave me a D minus!"

"Regardless of grades and what Noah may or may not have done with Mrs. Grim in order to procure a decent grade…I know that deep down, you have an irrepressible need for destruction, violence and mayhem. How on _Earth_ are you just sitting there, calm and collected? My Noah would have-"

"Now he's completely yours? I mean, we talked about it, but I didn't realize that you had signed the mortgage to him already, Man-hands."

"Noah was mine a long time ago, Quinn…"

"Yeah, you guys and your stupid end game. I'm going to break your PS3 if we get home, dude."

"WHEN we get home, Finn. And we're going to get out of here, because Noah will…"

"Berry-pants, save it. I'm not doing something reckless here. No way. No how."

"I don't understand, Puck…you do reckless things all of the time. I sort of recall being oh, you know, WITH CHILD for nine months due to a really reckless thing you did."

"Noah. Please. I know you have an idea. Why aren't you doing something?"

"It won't work, and it could get you and Quinn really hurt. I'm not going there. Ever."

"So I'll be safe, dude?"

"Unfortunately yes."

"Cool. Thanks for thinking of me, man."

"Noah, I trust you. We need to think of something. They'll be back eventually, and we should be prepared. I trust you. With everything."

"After everything that's happened to us this summer, I really doubt one more thing is going to kill us, Puck. Spill."

"You guys are nuts. Seriously…alright. Finn…"

"Yeah man?"

"Start banging your head against the wall again."

…

…

…

…

**Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!**

*****June 2010*****

"Dude, you have a cell phone on you? If you tell the girls, they'll go nuts!" Finn stared at his friend with wide and fearful eyes. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"It's pay as you go. I have five minutes of air time left. And Rachel's number is the only one I have programmed in to here," Puck admitted gruffly. He saw Finn's possessive and angry expression immediately flare across his countenance and Puck rolled his eyes. "Seriously, man? During the summer and winter break? Rachel and I are like…BFF's. I'm for real."

"That's crazy…it's totally not possible," Finn shook his head adamantly. "You're like lava lamps."

"Are you channeling Brittany now?" Puck furrowed his brow in confusion at Finn's random comments.

"Rachel's like the oily bubbles, and you're like the rest of the goo in the lava lamp," Finn insisted, as if it were obvious to anyone else that had ever met them. "You don't mix."

"Man, I know you and your mom love lava lamps. You have eighteen of them in your house," Puck raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Twenty, now. We each got the other one a new one for Christmas," Finn shrugged. "They're in storage now though. Kurt says that its not athletically pleasing."

"Aesthetically," Puck corrected. He saw Finn's guffaw and shrugged, "My vocabulary is loads better during the summers. The Berry's have been prepping me for the SAT's since me and Rachel were twelve."

"Super weird."

"Whatever, you say we're lava lamps. Fine. Because sure the stuff doesn't mix together, but at least its like they work together and its…cool to look at," Puck smirked. "I've seen you staring at one for three hours once, without blinking."

"Whatever, who are you going to call?" Finn demanded. He couldn't help the sudden grin break out over his face and he chuckled to himself. His mood had gotten infinitely better since he had been able to relieve his bladder. He mumbled to himself jovially, "Ghostbusters."

"The only number I know besides Rachel's and my house is…Deputy Sherriff Duncan Siemans."

Finn laughed, garnering the attention of the girls who were standing on the opposite side of the road, Quinn keeping an eye on her cell phone as they slowly walked up the street, enacting Finn's plan, which surprised the hell out of both of them. It had actually made a little sense. Sure Rachel was now in her sleeveless pink button down shirt…with a lot of the buttons not done up, her already short pink and blue plaid skirt hiked up indecently. Quinn was in no better of a position…the boys had deemed her post-baby physique perfect for this particular mission, and she was now in just her tank top, her sweatshirt having been confiscated by Finn joyously.

She was having a hard time not letting the post baby boobs pop out for all the world to see. Her jeans had been expertly shredded by Puck, so that they resembled the most indecent pair of daisy dukes on the face of the planet. Seriously, Britney Spears had nothing on her at that point. Rachel and Quinn were slowly ambling down the road, arms linked and hands intertwined.

Puck had to admit, the plan was fucking brilliant, which was an epic feat of ridiculous proportions for Finn. No trucker in their right mind would be able to resist two hot high school girls who looked like that. The fact that they looked tri-sexual was just extra icing on the cake. The boys were hiding expertly, they knew that a trucker wouldn't stop if they saw two doofuses trotting after two hotties.

"Hey assholes! We're totally doing the hard work here…try to at least look like you're being serious," Quinn hissed angrily.

"Quinn is right. We're parading ourselves around out here like harlots at the Moulin Rouge. The least you could do is pretend to appreciate the humiliation we're going through," Rachel fumed.

"Keep strutting, ladies, _please_," Puck threw in the polite modifier for Rachel's benefit, and was rewarded with a small smile and a roll of the eyes. Puck looked back to Finn and smirked. "Try to not laugh…they're angry. Quinn will cut off your nads and Rachel will do the cha cha on them if you poke the angry lionesses."

"Right…but your calling Deputy Semen. That's hilarious. He's gonna hang up on you," Finn insisted.

Puck took a deep breath, knowing that Finn had a seventy-five percent chance of being right. But he had to do something. He didn't trust leaving a voice mail for his mother. The woman could smell when he was up to no good, but she had no idea how to work the answering machine or the voice mail. She'd discover it five years from now after their bodies had already decomposed on the side of the road.

Sure he only knew the cop's number by heart because he, Finn, Matt and Mike had continuously prank called the man since they were thirteen. But seriously, the dude had it coming. Who has a name like Deputy Sherriff Duncan Siemans? And if they do have the unfortunate moniker, they had better expect to be prank called by every teenage boy in town. He took a deep breath before punching in the well known number and hitting the dial button.

"WHAT?"

"Uhm, hello sir," Puck said quietly and respectfully.

"PUCKERMAN? Whaddaya want? Lemme guess, Dunkin donuts wants me to make a donation for their new coffee flavor? Steamin Semen, right? Save it, Mohawk. I can't wait till I can bust you and put you behind bars."

"Sir, I'm not going to make fun of your name this time," Puck insisted. "I need help."

"Is this like the last time you needed help, Puckerman? What was it…oh yeah, you told me you needed help finding my wife's nether regions…right?" the irate police officer shouted over the end.

"My friends and I saw two people kidnapped today…at 5th and Court…we have a signal on them, but we need help, we're stranded in Western Star…"

"Save it. I don't give one small rat's ass. This is all some crazy prank you're pulling for the start of summer."

"Really, sir. I'm not…I need help…"

"You saw someone kidnapped today? Well, kid, that means they've been missing less than twelve hours. Which means that I officially don't give a crap. Their parents will call if its for real. Which I doubt, since its _you_. The official reason for vasectomies."

Puck took a deep breath and growled, "You're one to talk about vasectomies, Semen-boy. Your wife BEGGED me to have sex with her last summer, but _guess what_? I don't do transvestites! Have fun with your herpes."

And with that, Puck pressed the end call button with as much force as he could muster, glaring down at the phone. Finn smirked at him and shrugged.

"So, that means, I've had one good idea…and you've had like…zero?" Finn wondered with feigned innocence. "So much for me being the stupider one."

"There's a truck! There's a truck in the distance!" Rachel screeched suddenly, pointing down the road, where about two miles down, there was an eighteen wheeler barreling towards them, and the nearest gas station.

"LOOK SEXY!" Finn ordered.

"Make out!" Puck demanded.

"WHAT? NOAH PUCKERMAN, I am going to-"

"Just do it!" Finn called out. "Get his attention!"

"Oh for cripe's sake!" Quinn growled, suddenly pulling Rachel to her, placing her mouth against a squirming Rachel. Huh…so this is why Brittany and Santana were life-partners in training. Rachel stopped squirming and Quinn actually began to enjoy herself a little. Her lips tasted like _berries_ of all things, and Quinn couldn't help but enjoy Rachel's sense of ironic self-advertisement.

"Oh holy mother of fucking God," Puck whispered as he watched the girls tread into _serious_ fantasy territory. His mind was confused enough as it was, with thoughts of Rachel constantly and the thoughts he had sheltered for Quinn since their brief time together. This was like the best day ever. Kidnapping…no gas…dying on the side of the road.

…

Totally. Fucking. Worth. It.

"Damn," Finn cringed suddenly. "Oh crap…"

"Mail man. Dude. MAIL MAN!" Puck punched Finn's arm repeatedly, hoping to save his friend from staining his pants. The last thing he needed was to hear Finn complaining about his soaked and uncomfortable tighty whities for the rest of the road trip from hell.

"They aren't slowing down!" Rachel pulled up for air to shout, only to be completely silenced again as Quinn practically devoured her lips once more.

Puck shook his head as if trying to clear a sudden fog as Finn actually turned away in order to control himself, walking in tight circles and muttering about "Aunt Irma's back fat". Puck looked down the road and saw the truck barreling down just as fast as ever, completely missing the hot girl-on- girl action in his view. Clarity and inspiration struck at the same time and before he knew it he had yanked Finn's arm and brought the both of them into view of trucker.

He ripped Finn's shirt wide open and pulled his own up over his head. He bent over provocatively and yelled.

"SMACK MY ASS, DUDE!"

Both girls tore themselves away from the other and looked over at the boys in complete astonishment and utter fascination. Puck was bent over as if he were picking something up, looking back at Finn with a _smoldering_ look of downright naughtiness and Finn, surprisingly enough followed directions easily and caught on quicker than he ever had before in his entire life. He pulled his hand back and smacked Puck's rear end, his hand lingering and copping a very visible feel.

Rachel and Quinn's mouths opened identically, and the very same red blush bloomed on both of their cheeks. Quinn still had her arm linked in Rachel's and she involuntarily squeezed.

"Is it wrong that-"

"This is really kind of sexy," Rachel finished in a whisper.

The girls weren't the only ones to think so, as the sound of screeching brakes echoed in the previously still and silent countryside air. The truck driver obviously liked what was being advertised as it came to a stop directly beside Puck and Finn's provocative little show. The four teenagers gathered together, Rachel and Quinn still entangled, Finn and Puck standing next to each other, Puck now upright, gazing intently at the darkened windows of the eighteen wheeler.

The windows slowly rolled down and the smirking face of a middle-aged woman appeared, smiling down at the quartet.

"Ya'll need a ride?"

**####**

bwahahahahah! I swear, I'm not a slash writer and this story is so not going to end up with a _literal_ Fuickleberry group love in. Maybe. But it made me giggle, and I hope it made you giggle too.

So...what's Puck's big plan on getting out of that vault? Does it involve Finn slapping his ass? And what kind of trucker has picked those idiotic teenagers up? One that wants to see boy on boy goodness? And if so, where does that leave poor Quinn and Rachel? And can I write a fic one shot on all the crank calls the boys have made to Deputy Sherrif Duncan Siemans? Please? And seriously? WHERE ARE MATT AND MIKE?

All of these questions, and maybe more will be answered...ah who am I kidding, probably tomorrow. This is seriously fun and easy to write. And everyone who reads makes it that much funner and easier. Seriously funner.

Cookies and lemonade to all of you fabulous peoples!


	4. Chapter 4

So, I figured this out, dear gentle-readers. I'm not always early. Sometimes, I just lie about when chapters will be posted. Seriously, sorry about that. the Lego Harry Potter game possessed me last night. I had to do its bidding (mainly saving Hogwarts from a lego-Voldemort. He killed Cedric that slimy bastard).

Here is Chapter Four. Seriously short (for me). Thanks as always for reading!

**-Chapter Four-**

*****August 2010*****

**BANG! BANG! Bang**…bang…bang…

"I think I gave myself a concussion."

"And no one came to even check on us. What now Puck?"

"Is that part of the plan, Noah? To get someone in the room?"

"Sing something, Berry-pants. Sing something loud. And angry. Quinn…help her."

"Help her? Uhm, I think she does loud just fine and dandy on her own. We've all seen her shatter glass with her voice…"

"That was awesome. And it hurt my ears."

"Noah, I don't think it's possible. This room is soundproof."

"_Your_ bedroom is soundproof. And I seem to remember walking in your house all last summer and hearing you sing _Everyone's a Little Bit Racist_."

"Still not cool with you mentioning her room, dude."

"Get over it Finn. You and I slept together a MONTH ago!"

"QUINN! That was _secret_ sex! It means that it was supposed to be _secret_."

"Oh ho ho ho! And now Finnifer, _you_ are the one who is the asshat!"

"PUCK, stop dancing around. I caught you and Rupaul dry humping like sex –crazed sex addicts a month and a half ago at the _Praise Jesus Internment Camp_."

"Shit."

"BERRY-PANTS! You cursed! YOU FUCKING CURSED!"

"_Oh please_, I've spent the better part of the last decade hearing nothing but gutter-snipe infused four letter words spew forth **constantly** from your sewer mouth. It was only a matter of time before the constant inappropriate vocabulary poisoned my own impeccable-"

"I'm so telling your dad's. You fucking cursed, you sailor-mouthed naughty girl!"

"While you're at it, tell her dads she made out with Quinn."

"That was to stop the Brandi, the crazy trucker! YOUR idea which failed spectacularly, might I remind you!"

"That wasn't the only time and you know it, Man-hands."

…

…

…

…

"Double shit."

"I can't believe Quinn let you touch her mouth with that sexy, filthy mouth, Berry-pants."

"Yeah, she makes me brush my teeth first and then swig some Listerine."

"As fun as the sentimental road-trips down the bi-curious memory lane are? Another hour has passed, Finn has a lump on his head the size of a grapefruit, I'm _still_ post-partum CRAZY, and we're still stuck in this damned vault. PUCK, instead of getting all tent-pantsed over Rachel's dirty, though enjoyable mouth…you said you had a plan that involved Man-hands _singing_?"

"Right…right, Ellen Degeneres is totally right. Berry-pants. The loudest, angriest song you know. And just remember three words when the time comes. Suck-it-lots Safety Day."

"oohhhhhhhh…"

"Is that what she sounds like when you kiss her, Quinn? Use fun fancy words and tell me about it."

"Ease up, Quick-Fire Macgee. If that lump on your forehead doesn't go away? We're so very over."

"Loud and angry…"

"The loudest, angriest song you can think of."

…

…

…

…

##"_The sun will come out tomorrow…_

_Bet your bottom dollar, that tomorrow_

_They'll be sun!##_

.

*****June 2010*****

.

"So what on the Lord's great Earth are four very attractive young people doing on the side of the road?"

"Well you see our friends, Matthew "Matt" Rutherford and Michael "Mike" Chang were kidnapped, forcefully and against their wills. We followed diligently, and my best friend here, Noah Puckerman, had the ingenious idea to place a tracking device of sorts on the vehicle that contained the aforementioned kidnapped friends…"

"Berry-pants, chillax," Puck murmured in her ear.

The four teenagers were now crowded in the cab of the eighteen-wheeler with its driver. Brandi Wilton. The girls were down-right relieved that a woman had picked them up instead of some skeezy dirty man who would probably expect way too much in return. And although neither of them would admit it, they were both thrilled that Puck had figured out that the driver of the truck was female. Neither could wait to discuss Finn and Puck's little show with the rest of the Glee club.

"We ran out of gas, ma'am," Finn explained with his signature goofy smile.

Puck smirked a little. That stupid smile of Finn's was golden. No woman over the age of twenty-seven could resist it. And what stunned Puck was that it wasn't even in a sexual type of way. Finn smiled that smile and BAM, waitresses gave them an extra serving of fries, store clerks _accidentally_ forget to scan a couple of things at the register, teachers totally just forgot about the fact that he couldn't spell his very own legal name. All Finn had to do was smile, and he was suddenly a big, goofy puppy and all women wanted to do was spoil the living crap outta him.

Puck wasn't so lucky. He had a smirk, not a goof-tastic grin. Women wanted his, admittedly hot body. They wanted _him_ to spoil them. But god dammit. He swore to Christ (conveniently, he was Jewish), that all he wanted was some extra fries too. He was getting that vibe from their savior, Brandi. She was all over the goofy grin. She had no interest in a sexy ass smirk or a rock hard body.

"I'm sexy right? I'm want-able," Puck whispered in Rachel's ear. He pulled away, not ashamed in the least about making Rachel boost his ego. Last time he had checked, it was summer. That was her full-time job. She blushed slightly and looked up at him through her eyelashes in a demure, flirty way.

"Basic," she whispered as a reminder.

Damn him and his stupid brilliance. Yeah, he loved having his best friend back, but he couldn't help it if he wanted to make out with her constantly. Even in Brandi's tricked out truck-cab. He looked over at their kind driver as she chatted with Finn about seriously, fire hydrants. Weird.

"Uhm…there's the gas station," Quinn whispered as they blew right past it.

Realization dawned on three of the teenagers. Finn kept on chatting with that damned smile on his face.

"Yeah, we never had a dog, my mom said she couldn't handle it without my Dad."

"Oh that's too bad. A young man's great joy in life can come from the friendship of a four legged friend. What happened to your dad? Was your mom a harlot? Are you a bastard?" Brandi wondered sadly.

Finn looked confused, still not even aware of Quinn gently pinching his side. "Uh, no, he died during the First Sand War."

"A hero…military men are family men…men of God," Brandi nodded. "It's a shame he wasn't there to raise you right, boy."

"Huh?" Finn wondered.

Rachel looked at Puck with extra-wide, worried eyes. She inched closer to him, her hand clutched in his. Her voice was barely a whisper, Puck read her lips diligently.

"Noah! I think…I think that _we've_ been kidnapped now too."

*****Elsewhere*****

"O. M. G."

"Santana, you should really calm down. Because my mail man died from his vein blowing up in his forehead. And you're getting really close there," Brittany said calmly, her face content and non-plussed.

"Where in the _hell_ are they? Those idiots are messing with my summer plans. They should have picked up their stupid phones by now! How DARE Rupaul not pick up one of my twenty-three calls? I'm _barely _her friend as it is. I'm being like, super duper nice in solving **ALL **of her problems here and she's not even picking up her phone. She better be dead somewhere. Or so help me, I'll kill her," Santana took in a deep breath. She didn't understand how Berry always made those crazy long ass speeches. They took some serious lung capacity.

"Over the phone? Like with a telephone Jedi mind trick? Because I think that's totally doable," Brittany nodded eagerly, her eyes wide with excited anticipation as Santana made another attempt to complete a phone call.

"Puck's phone is out of minutes. That cheap bastard. I really wish I hadn't deleted Quinn's number," Santana ruefully admitted. "What about Finn?"

"I heard that Finn wasn't allowed to have a phone, cause the last time he lit it on fire in the microwave," Brittany theorized.

"This sucks," Santana grumbled. She looked to the back seat of the car and said, "Our summer is seriously RUINED."

**######**

**Song credit: "Tomorrow" from Annie the musical, a.k.a. the angriest song ever**

What have those morons gotten themselves into now? How will the rescuer's of the kidnapped be able to rescue the kidnapped whilst being kidnapped? And Annie? Angry? I get _loud_ but angry? Silly Rachel. What does Brandi Wilton have in store for our fearless foursome? How many times has Finn gotten free stuff due to his goofy grin? Can his goofy puppy look get them out of this mess? And how will Santana punish Rachel for ignoring TWENTY-THREE calls?

All of this and more may be answered tomorrow.

Thanks again! Have a lovely evening/morning/afternoon/dusk/dawn!


	5. Chapter 5

Hello dearest readers! Here is Chapter Five of Fuickleberrry. Serendipity-Shadowcat made the reply once that she keeps missing the "i" in Fuickleberry. Heh. I've never made that typo yet. YET. Only a matter of time.

Thanks as always for the much loved response. You're all the poop.

.

**-Chapter Five-**

*****August 2010******

###" _**The sun'll come out  
Tomorrow  
So ya gotta hang on  
'Til tomorrow  
Come what may  
Tomorrow! Tomorrow!  
I love ya Tomorrow!  
You're always  
A day  
A way**_!"###

.

"That was really…fun…girls."

"Why thank you, Finn! I still hold out hopes that I'll be cast as the iconic Annie. I believe that my shorter stature will allow me to pass as a ten-year-old."

"Is that why you dress like a ten-year-old from 1978?"

"Down, Quinn, stop picking on the midget."

"NOAH! I really wish you would cease and desist with the name calling!"

"Berry-pants you just called _yourself_ a midget. Why am I not allowed to do the same? And besides, the song was loud…sure, but I've heard you go louder. And how in the hell was that supposed to be angry?"

"I sang it angrily."

"I'm always angry, lately."

"Especially during sex. It's scary and super awesome at the same time."

"Shut _**up**__, _Finn!"

"I'm sorry that my musical tastes don't run towards the absurdly angry. I happen to think that any particular song could be infused with anger if you are a talented enough singer. A voice is part of an actor's arsenal!"

"Oh my God. I figured it out. I only get the urge to make-out with Rupaul when she goes on idiotic tirades. It's the only thing I can think of to shut her the hell up."

"Really? That's how I felt too. Especially when she's got the crazy eyes and the fast talking going on."

"Stop talking about her mouth that way, Finnana. I'm going to punch your teeth out."

"Don't talk to him that way, Puck! You can't threaten Finn anymore."

"Oh, that's cause it's your job now? You guys have this kinky violent sex thing going on, Fabray?"

"You're one to talk, _Puck_. You and Man-hands have the kinky damsel in distress, dude in distress thing going. Every time one of you is even close to being in danger, you become like…two, slutty Jewish magnets with no concept of public decency."

"Quinn, I'm very impressed that our time together this summer has really made your syntax, vocabulary and dramatic sense of irony really flourish. I'd like to lay claim to a small part of this vast improvement in your mental processes."

…

…

…

…

"I hate you Rupaul."

"I know. But I think in the last six weeks, I've come to realize that when you say that, it still means that you're growing accustomed to me. I think that when we go back to school, perhaps we won't be the closest of friends, but certainly a strong bond has formed."

"A bond between two pairs of girly, soft lips."

"Seriously Finn. SHUT UP!"

"Well done, Man-hands."

"Back on track people. You three still want to follow my plan?"

"Yes, I'm sorry Noah. We were distracted. You want an angry song. Still—I don't really have those in my repertoire…"

"Bullshit, Berry-pants. I've carefully supervised your music the last six summers. Drop the perfect act. I know your deepest darkest secrets."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Certainly, it's true that I enjoy a wide variety of music. I simply don't-"

###" _Yeah here we go for the hundredth time  
Hand grenade pins in every line_

_Throw 'em up and let something shine  
Going out of my fucking mind_

_Filthy mouth, no excuse  
Find a new place to hang this noose_

_String me up from atop these roofs  
Knot it tight so i won't get loose_

_Truth is you can stop and stare  
Run myself out and no one cares_

_Dug the trench out laid down there  
With a shovel up out of reach somewhere_

_Yeah, someone pour it in  
Make it a dirt dance floor again_

_Say your prayers and stomp it out  
When they bring that chorus in"##  
_  
...

…

…

##"_**I bleed it out digging deeper  
Just to throw it away**_

_**I bleed it out digging deeper  
Just to throw it away**_

_**I bleed it out digging deeper  
Just to throw it away**_!"##

#**BANG!**#

"What in the hell are you four freaks doing in here?"

*****June 2010*****

Golden glittery blades of sunshine danced over Puck's face, causing him to stir ever so slightly. He hadn't had such a great night's sleep in a long time. Like, maybe when he was twelve or so. Before his school problems with Rachel ever began. Those few weeks when they were footloose and fancy free at their first summer camp together. He had slept that well then, when he and Rachel would bunk at one another's house, watch scary movies together, build a pillow fort, and toast marshmallows over scented candles (not recommended. Marshmallows aren't supposed to taste like clean linen). That was the last time he would fall asleep so deeply he literally didn't even dream. He'd just wake up with that smell of Johnson and Johnson shampoo.

He sniffed the air with his eyes still tightly clamped shut and there it was. One of the best smells in the world. His Berry-pants.

Suddenly he shot upwards in his bed, his eyes darting around anxiously. Where in the hell were they? He looked to the small bed next to him and saw that Finn was sprawled out awkwardly, his body too big for the child sized bed. He very much resembled a giant in a dollhouse, with his legs dangling over the mattress at least two feet.

"DUDE!" Puck hissed, taking his pillow and launching it a comatose Finn. "What happened?"

They had been in Brandi's eighteen-wheeler. And they had driven way past the gas station in Western Star. Brandi had pulled the truck over at a rest-stop and gotten out, locking them in.

And then he woke up here. What in the hell?

"Noah?"

Rachel's whisper echoed throughout the small cabin. Puck hopped off of his bed, and was surprised that his coordination was way off. He stumbled slightly and met Rachel halfway, where she too seemed befuddled and clumsy. He gripped his hands on her upper arms gently and gave her a once over.

"You okay?" he whispered.

"Yes, I seem to be quite alright. What in the world is going on?" Rachel wondered, her voice small and scared.

That probably scared Puck more than if he had found her with broken bones. She was scared. She seemed uncertain and _terrified_. It wasn't right. He never saw her scared. He hated it. He pulled at her arms very suddenly and embraced her tightly, soothing her as he petted her long brown locks and pressed his lips to the side of her temple.

"We're okay…we are. I'll get us out of this I promise."

"Ugh…that's not exactly what I wanted to wake up to…" Quinn groggily complained form her bed. "Why are you two like…entangled?"

"We seem to be out of our element, Quinn," Rachel shrugged, still not giving up her hold on Puck as they hugged in the middle of the cabin. "You wouldn't happen to know what happened, would you?"

"The last thing I remember is smacking Finn upside the head for farting in the truck," Quinn slowly sat up in her tiny bed. She looked over to see that Finn was also stirring.

"Mommy, there's something wrong with my pogo stick…"

Puck's eyes went wide as Finn slowly woke from whatever seriously messed up dream he had been having. Finn wiped drool from his face and he mumbled, "I didn't do it."

"Do what? Break your pogo stick?" Puck smirked.

"Fart…I didn't. That wasn't my gas. I know the smell of my own gas," Finn rubbed sleep from his eyes as he yawned away the very deep slumber he had unwittingly fell into. "You should too. We've farted in each other's faces enough..."

"It was Brandi…she gassed us when she left her truck," Puck deduced. "We were all out for the same amount of time…we all went out at the same time. Quinn…your phone…"

Quinn dug in her back pocket and pulled it out, clutching it in her hands and checking it with a definite sense of desperation.

"It's…oh my God, it's been a whole day!" Quinn exclaimed.

"Which means we could be _anywhere_," Rachel lamented. She finally disentangled herself from the comforting safety of Puck's arms and walked cautiously towards the window of the cabin, peering out into the world. "I would deduce that from the foliage and other plant life that we're still somewhere near Ohio…certainly we're not on the West Coast at least."

"We're in West Virginia," Quinn accessed the GPS program on her phone. "And Mike and Matt are in West Beaver, Pennsylvania."

"Heh, Beaver," Finn chuckled.

"Not the time, dude." Puck shook his head in disbelief. He smirked and admitted, "Alright, anytime is a good time for beaver."

The boys laughed, and Rachel and Quinn each rolled their eyes. Suddenly the door to the cabin slammed open and the quartet of teenagers were face to face with their kidnapper. Brandi Wilton looked between each of them suspiciously, nodding approvingly at Quinn and Finn, who were still in bed. She scowled at Rachel, who was standing by the window, trying to appear inconspicuous. She looked at Puck last and loudly declared,

"We're going to have a problem, boy…you are breaking the rules!"

"By…being too awesome for your lame-ass cabin?"

"Profanity! Vanity! And Covetous behavior!" Brandi snarled at him.

"Vanity?" Puck furrowed his brow. He looked down and saw that he was shirtless, as he had been when Brandi picked them all up in the first place. "Lady, if you've got it, flaunt it. Come on, Puckzilla was made to be displayed."

"You are crossing a line, boy," Brandi muttered angrily.

"Crossing the line of being fine? Hell yeah, I am," Puck arrogantly declared.

"Noah," Rachel whispered from behind Brandi. She made desperate gestures for him to _ stop _taunting the crazy lady who had kidnapped them. But he simply shrugged, turning on every asshole and sex pheromone he had. She couldn't blame him, it was his natural response to being threatened. He wouldn't heed her desperate advice, Puck was never good with verbal or visual directions. He was always the hands on-learner.

"This room is separated for the good of your immortal souls. Good girls stay on one side and good boys stay on the other!" Brandi pointed down at the visible white line drawn down the middle of the room.

"How in the hell are we supposed to have crazy as fuck orgies if we're separated? I'm endowed lady, but still-"

"You're going to be a hard one to break, I see," Brandi nodded. She shrugged and said, "I could use a good challenge. I will turn you into a good Christian soul if it kills you."

Rachel audibly gasped and held her hand to her mouth immediately, looking at Noah with crazy, begging eyes. She hoped just once, Puck would resist the urge to defy authority and go along with their crazy captor until they could all figure a way out.

"Fuck that, I'm the finest ass Jew in this world."

No such luck there. Rachel slowly edged towards Brandi, hoping to somehow plead Noah's case. Perhaps explain that he had unexplainable, unmedicated Tourette's. She never got the chance, because Brandi flew into action, pulling a small, black hand held device out of her pocket and aiming it at Puck carefully, pulling a trigger.

"NOAH!" Rachel screamed as his body spasmed voilently and quickly. Rachel threw herself at his twitching body and cried out angrily, "What did you do to him?"

"Relax, child. He'll live. He's just tazed," Brandi pushed Rachel away from an unconscious Puck. "He's going in the repentance box. He'll learn right quick."

Rachel struggled with Brandi for control of Puck's unmoving body, trying to keep him with her when suddenly Quinn had her arms around her in a comforting motion. The last thing they needed was Rachel tazed with the same voltage that had just taken down Puck. She held Rachel tight as the girl sobbed out, screaming at the top of her lungs.

"NOAH! GIVE HIM BACK! Don't HURT HIM!"

The cabin door slammed shut and locked once more, and Finn rushed to the window to see where Brandi was going. He reported back quietly, his words barely heard over Rachel's frantic sobbing.

"It's a big wooden box in front of the cabin. He's okay…we'll get him out of there. Rach? Calm down…he's okay."

Quinn soothed Rachel as best as she could, as the brunette was still shaking with silent cries in Quinn's arms. She stroked Rachel's hair, much as she had seen Puck doing moments earlier. She brought her lips to Rachel's ear and whispered very softly,

"You really love him don't you?"

***Elsewhere***

"I wonder where everyone is?"

Tina looked at Artie and shrugged. "It was really weird that Rachel and Finn missed our double date last night."

"Yeah, weird. But sort of enjoyable for those of us who benefited from a single date," Artie smiled winningly at his girlfriend.

"But Rachel wouldn't miss an appointment she put on her calendar for like…anything," Tina admitted. "I mean, someone would have to physically tie her down or something."

"Very true," Artie nodded. Suddenly his cell phone began ringing, the ring tone that blared at him was Shakira's "Hips don't lie". Tina raised a curious eyebrow as Artie fumbled for his phone. "Hi…uhm, hey. Hi Santana. What's up?"

Tina rolled her eyes and listened in shamelessly. It wasn't that difficult. Santana was screaming into the phone.

"**Where in the hell is Rachel?**"

"Uhm, Tina and I were just wondering the same thing. She and Finn missed our double date to see Twilight last night," Artie revealed.

"I don't want to hear about your secret gay wanting for sparkly vampires, Wheels. I want to know where Berry is. Or Puck…or Jesus, even Quinn!"

"Uhm, I'll call you if I hear from them?" Artie promised, clearly frightened of the fire breathing woman on the other end of the phone. Santana merely hung up rudely and Artie shrugged helplessly at Tina. "I think there might be a problem…"

"We'll talk about Santana having your digits later, Artie. Right now, let's see what we can find out about Rachel, Finn, Puck and Quinn."

**##########**

**Song credit: "Bleed it Out" Linkin Park** I'm not their biggest fan, but that song is din-o-mit-aa.**  
**

Does anyone think that electro-shock therapy will make Puck..._not_ Puck? Does Brandi have a lot batteries to be able to keep recharging that thing to discipline Puck into a good Christian? Who joined the Fuickleberry party in the Bellagio vault? Will the Bellagio let me into a vault so I can do some research? What did Tina and Artie do on their _single_ date? Why does Santana have Artie's digits? Are the Glee club going to activate and unite to save poor Fuickleberry? And oh yeah, Mike and Matt too?

All of these questions may be answered and more...sometime before Monday. Mucho de love to all. Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

Uhoh. I'm a bad fanfic nerd. I was a little burnt-out from the high paced posting. And I admit that I got sidetracked with _reading_ fan-fiction instead of writing it. My apologies. Blame the awesome Puckleberry authors out there who have supplied me with highly addictive crack everywhere.

Anyway...we last left our heroes Finn, Quin, Puck and Rachel (Aka Fuickleberry) in two places. Present time saw them trying to get the attention of their captors in the Bellagio vault. Past time found them kidnapped by a Crazy Christian Lady Truck Driver who was trying to turn Puck into a good Christian boy by tazing him and shoving him in a repentance box. And...here we are...

**-Chapter Six -**

*****August 2010*****

_**##"I bleed it out digging deeper  
Just to throw it away**_!"##

#**BANG!**#

"What in the hell are you four freaks doing in here?"

"Excuse me, you imbecilic criminal, but you do _not_ _**EVER**_ interrupt a performer who is obviously in an incredible zone. Would you just waltz onto stage whilst Celine Dion was expertly belting out one of her nine amazing top ten singles? Would you waltz behind the glory shot of Academy Award Winner Julie Roberts? Would you fingerpaint over a Van Gogh masterpiece? You sir, are a rude, terrible, simpleton and a heathen! Because no matter the song I'm singing, it is art and you cannot interrupt the process. HEATHEN! NOAH! From the top!"

…

…

…

…

"Well here we go for the hundredth time?"

"SHUT UP! Who do you think I am girlie? That you're going to holler at me like that? Do you even know what's going on right now?"

"I believe I have an excellent grasp over the situation at hand. We have been taken hostage by you and your moronic troupe of simpering coward criminals. And I suppose that the excellent performance Noah and I were in the middle of made you have a thought. _Probably_ your first thought since you were five and realized that hands were good to smash things with! Now keep your monosyllabic caveman mouth quiet for exactly three and a half minutes so that I can finish! NOAH! AGAIN!"

"uh…well here we go for the hundredth time…hand grenade pins in every line…"

"If you don't shut up, I'll shut you up!"

"I'd like to see you try…no one can shut me up! …Eeep!"

…

…

…

"LET HER GO, DUDE!"

"HEY! Get your hands off her, Steroid Magee! I swear, I'll grind the rest of your tiny balls into dust."

"Less words, boys, kick his ass!"

***SLAM!***

"Quinn! Quinn, you alright? I'm gonna kill you man…"

"BERRY-PANTS! Focus! Suck-it-lots Safety Day!"

…

…

…

"**Hiiiii-yah!"**

"-what in the hell are you doing girl?"

"**EMPOWERMENT!"**

_**WHACK!**_

"**I AM NO ONE'S VICTIM!"**

_**BAM!**_

"**GROIN! NOSE! GROIN! NOSE! GROIN!"**

_**BANG! BANG! BANG!**_

…

…

…

…

"Quinn, are you quite alright?"

"-uhm…what? Manhands? I think you killed that guy!"

"Don't be silly, Quinn! He's unconscious, Noah, I would let Finn tie the knots. He is the boyscout."

"Holy shit, I think even my balls hurt after that, Berry-pants."

"I'll take that as a compliment, Noah. And a hearty congratulations to you. That was an incredibly brilliant plan. The anger from the song infused me with more anger at having been interrupted. And thankfully our captor went for my throat, which sent my mind into a furious, blank rage. Mrs. Sokoloff-Leonardo's training came in exceptionally handy."

"That was stinking awesome. I mean, Rach. He's out cold…completely. You're like…wonder woman."

"And now…I'm turned on by Rupaul again."

"Awesome. Maybe…kiss her again?"

"Shut up Finn and tie the knots while I look for this douche-bag's keys. Nothing…but a remote control….huh. Weird. No cell phone, no wallet…"

"So…now what, Noah? What is our next step? You seem to be on quite a successful streak, plan-wise."

"Now, we wait until the other dudes realize that the guy with the remote to the bank bomb is totally missing. And then we get them one by one until we get out of here."

*****July 2010*****

"Berry-pants! Wake up! Berry-pants!"

Rachel bolted upright in her bed, her head whipping around at the insistent whispering of Noah's pet-name for her. She must have been dreaming. Fuzzy images of Noah from last summer flittered into her brain as an after-effect of the happy dream she had just had. Noah had been teaching her how to drive with his pick-up. He had laughed for ages when she had pulled out her _How To Parallel Park For Dummies_, complete with highlighted verses and post-it flags anchored to the truly vital passages. He had laughed again when she had fallen asleep while he was trying to explain the fine art of parallel parking.

"It's about time! Open the door!"

"Noah?" Rachel whispered, looking to the front windows of the dark cabin. She flew from her bed and went for the door, repeatedly trying to open the very locked door. "Noah!"

"Berry-pants, focus. I taught you how to pick locks four summers ago when Suck-it-lots locked me in the closet every time I made rude comments about the ridiculous flatness of her ass," Noah insisted through the cracked window. "Pull yourself together and get me in there."

Rachel nodded, gathering her wits about her and rushing towards the bedside table she and Quinn were sharing. She rifled through Quinn's things quietly and procured a few bobby pins before rushing back to the door and working at the lock with surprisingly calm and steady hands. It popped open suddenly and Noah swung the door open, gripping her forearms and lifting her from her kneeling position on the ground.

Rachel finally felt her emotions break as he clutched her body to his, wrapping her up in his arms. Her tears fell silently as her shoulders trembled with the pent up fear that his incarceration had induced within her all day long. She felt his hand rubbing circles on her lower back and his lips pressing against the top of her head.

"It's okay, Rachel. I'm here, we're okay," Noah whispered.

"How did you get out of the repentance box?" Rachel sniffled as they closed the door to the cabin, locking it behind them.

"No box can hold me, Berry-pants, you know that," Noah scoffed. "I scoped the farm out. She had a security fence. At least six feet high with barbed wire. We're alone out here too. There isn't a neighbor or road in sight. Crazy ass went to bed at about nine-thirty. Her house in about 100 yards north."

"Noah…what are we going to do? Please tell me you have a plan to get out of here…and please-pretty please with as many cookies as you could ever want, **DO NOT** get yourself tazed again. I nearly _died_," Rachel swore. "You just…fell to the ground and I thought that she had killed you! You have to think before you go spouting off with your undeniable need for dischord and anarchy! Think about me and how I would implode if something bad happened to you-mmpph!"

Her quiet, hissed tirade was cut short as Noah placed his lips against hers. They both knew that his protectiveness towards her was one of her turn-ons, but he had just discovered that hearing her be so damned caring of his well-being suddenly made him want to lay her down on the tiny bed and have his way with her, whether his baby mama and her sort of boyfriend were there or not. She made a tiny squeaking moaning sound, which only added fuel to the fire. He lifted her off the ground and she quickly read his mind, wrapping her legs around his waist as he quickly led them to her bed. He was going to commit at least eighteen different sins with Rachel Berry in the crazy Christian lady's cabin and it was going to be fucking awesome.

"OH. HELL. NO. Stop making creepy Jewish babies," Quinn hissed at them as she sat up in her bed. She threw a pillow Finn's way and didn't managed to completely wake the boy, but just put him into a mumbling sleep state.

"Stupid bunny…my trix…"

"WAKE UP FINN!" Quinn harshly commanded. "Before Rachel and Puck make me witness their mating!"

"SEX, what?" Finn jumped up in his bed, smacking his head against the bed railing. "Oww…woah. Puck. How'd ya get out of the box?"

"It was plywood…no big deal," Noah shrugged as he and Rachel straightened each other out. They would have to be quieter next time in order to avoid Quinn from ruining their fun. Unless they could get her to join in. Then hell, all his fantasies would be in the bag.

"Noah…how are we going to get out of here? You do have a plan, don't you?" Rachel wondered softly. "I have a serious concern that Brandi is going to attempt to baptize the both of us."

"All right…I got an idea. Finn, you're going to have to smile. All day. And Quinn? How much do you remember from Sunday school?"

"Have you met me? Bastard child aside, I'm like a freaking nun," Quinn smirked.

"Fucking awesome. This is how it's going to go down…"

*****Elsewhere*****

"Hey Santana. It's Tina…oh. Okay. Hold on."

Tina rolled her eyes and handed Artie's phone back to him. She glared at her boyfriend with as much intensity as she could, hopefully conveying the threat _flirt just once with that Latina sex bomb and I swear to Goddess, you won't be using your fully functioning penis for the rest of all time…the rest of all time Artie!_.

"Hi…uhm…Santana. We have an update. We visited Rachel's house today. Her dad's are out of town, and the housesitter said that Rachel was on a trip."

"I _know_ that Wheelie," Santana growled. "Who do you think is paying the housesitter? Rachel is supposed to be somewhere. She's supposed to be with ME?"

"Are you and Brittany broken up?" Artie asked sadly, the thought of it almost too much for his hormonal teenaged mind to bear. "And if so…although Rachel is attractive, I would have recommended a much better female life-partner replacement. For instance…_Tina_-"

"Oh, for the love of Pete, I wish you could feel this!" Tina hissed as she pinched Artie's thigh.

"Please, Tina's make-out score according to Brittany is like, five out of ten at best. She doesn't take instruction well," Santana scoffed.

"I was _shy_ back then, Santana! And Brittany just pounced on me in Kurt's basement while we were wearing next to nothing. I was completely unprepared! I kiss like a freaking-kissing expert!" Tina yelled towards the phone.

"She really has become a very adept kisser. I think that Brittany should re-evaluate," Artie insisted strongly, earning another unfelt pinch. "Anyway-we also called Puck's house. His mother-"

"Said that he was with Rachel on a road trip. AGAIN, tell me something I didn't PLAN!" Santana shouted. She rolled her eyes. "You two are useless. If you hear from any of them…let me know. Now go back to teaching your girlfriend how to kiss, and maybe I'll schedule another Brittany evaluation."

**###**

**Again, the song is "Bleed It Out" by Linkin Park**

Is Rachel really a secret bad-ass ninja? Is Puck a secret plan mastermind? Can Rachel decimate Schue if he ever interrupts one of her performances? How did Puck get out of the repentance box? Can all four of them fit in a bed and makeout randomly? And did Brittany score all of the Glee kids on make-out ability? Can someone write up something for me about everyone's positives, negatives and development plans? Can I ignore amazing Puckleberry fanfic out there and actually write more of my own?

All of these questions and a few more will be answered in the next chapter! Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

Hello Glee-peeps! So, apparently, the best way to get me to update? Curse like sailors in reviews! I was all giggly at seeing the f*bombs and whatnot that I was like, I need to post another chapter. And here we go.

I know the beginning parts get confusing at times, but this is the last chapter that is going to be the pod-cast format. You'll see...

**-Chapter Seven-**

*****August 2010*****

"Noah? Do you want me to sing angrily again? Because to be honest, I _am_ feeling a little physically drained at my recent voyage into the land of violence. Even though it was self-defense and for the purpose of doing good music justice…I don't know that I'll be able to summon the same rage as the first time. I'll be far too self-conscious. But if you insist, I'm sure that another song would help me get to the correct state of mind. I recommend Nine Inch Nails…"

"No way, Rupaul. You listen to Nine Inch Nails?"

"Hell yes she does. I make sure she listens to quality shit twenty-four seven, at least for 97 days out of the year."

"Oh it's quite a bit more than just 97 days out of the year. I've incorporated the more high energy songs into my modern dance class."

"Please tell me you have a dance to _Closer_."

"Watch it Fabray-licious. That sounded a little too bi-curious."

"Fuck off, Puck. Let them talk, dude."

"Finn, you are entirely too invested in seeing Quinn and I enter into sexually experimental waters. You're living in a dream world."

"Berry-pants, he's living in a wet dream world. Population? His dick and occasionally his mail man."

"You're _disgusting_, Puck. And hold on, why am I the one telling him he's disgusting? Manhands? Isn't that your job?"

"I've become quite accustomed to Noah's vulgar thoughts and language. I dare say that I find it slightly humorous at times. For the predictability alone, I assure you…"

"Bullshit. You blush like a fucking tomato when I talk dirty. You. _Love_. It."

"Why don't you try talking dirty to her Quinn? I'm sure she'd blush. And then, you know-you can just do what comes naturally. Like feel each other up?"

…

…

…

…

"FINN!"

"No harm in asking."

"Dude, you can keep asking them, but eventually, they're going to both kick your ass to death and shit."

"Totally worth it. I mean, come on man. Even you gotta admit…the only two girls you've ever cared about in your whole life making out and stuff? It'd be like catching ten Trix bunnies."

"…S'true. Alright. I'm on Team Finnmantha. Have at it ladies."

"NOAH!"

"Go to hell Puck!"

"You can act all offended if you want. But fuck…you're two incredibly smoking babes. And you know what each other's lips taste like. Berry…don't you miss that soft feeling of Quinn's mouth on yours?"

"Noah, this is entirely inappropriate."

"And Quinn, admit it…that first time you kissed my Berry-pants? You totally creamed your panties when you realized her mouth _actually_ tasted like berries?"

"I hate you, Puck. For so many reasons."

"Whatevs. Stop trying to deny the amazingly awesome lesbionic undertow. Just let it drag you down. It'll feel amazing…here….you sit here, and Berry-pants, you sit here…put your hand there…feels nice, right?"

"mmmmm…"

…

…

…

…

"FINN! Mailman. Get over here with me by the door. Keep it up ladies…Sweet Jesus on Crackers."

"_Dude…she's totally putting her hand there."_

"_I know…shhhh…I hope this never fucking ends. EVER."_

"_Mailman, mailman, mailman, mailman, mailman, mailman, mailman, mailman._"

"Rupaul, how in the hell do you-mmmmhhhmm-how do your lips taste like berries. It's seriously amazingly retarded."

"-I kind of love the way your eyelashes hit my cheeks when you do that…"

…

…

"_I don't care if those crazy robbers kill us. I'm going to die a happy man._"

"_Shhhh…someone is coming in…get ready, dude."_

"Mac? What are you doing with these kids-holy shit. Holy. Shit."

"**NOW!"**

**CRASH! BANG! WHACK!**

"Grab the door Finn!"

"Got it!"

"All right Berry-pants, Q, we're out like a fat kid in dodgeball."

…

…

…

"Girls? Want to stop kissing and escape the scary criminals now?"

"Puck, why'd you have to ruin their fun? _MY_ fun?"

*****July 2010*****

"WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING YOU BRAZEN HUSSY?"

Quinn squirmed on her bed anxiously, as Rachel pinned her down with the former Cheerio's hands held tight above her head. Rachel ignored Brandi's arrival except to sneak a quick look at Puck, who Brandi had pushed through the door moments earlier. She saw Puck's eyebrow raise ever so slightly and she got right back into character, bringing her mouth against Quinn's neck in a painfully slow and torturous manner.

"NO Rachel! No more! I don't want to be a sinner anymore you horrible Jewish person!" Quinn squealed anxiously, wriggling beneath the _stronghold_ that Rachel had her under. She shot one short glare to Finn, who was sitting in his bed, the blanket over his body as he continuously muttered _mailman_ under his breath. "Ms. Walton! Please help me! Please NO she's going to DAMN MY SOUL FOREVER!"

Puck winced as the larger woman rushed over to the girls and threw Rachel off of the bed. Quinn wailed obnoxiously and Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Please, she wants me. She always wants me and my amazing dirty lesbian kissing and sex!" Rachel insisted dramatically, being very careful to keep her words believable, to her at the very least. This wasn't an auditorium full of people. This was an audience of one. "Don't even try to deny that you haven't let Noah and I do whatever we want to you Quinn! We've corrupted you with our…EVIL _sexual _ways! There is no salvation for such a sinner as you!"

"I don't want to anymore!" Quinn cried, fat tears rolling down her face. "I don't want to live a life of sin! I want to be SAVED! Finn and I never sinned before you EVIL JEWS came into our lives."

Finn turned away, chewing on the side of his cheek so as not to laugh. Puck drew attention away from the weak link in his plan and let a low, mirthfully evil chuckle rumble in his throat.

"It's too late now. There's no going back. Just give in to what feels good and let Rachel touch you all over…"

"NO! It's never too late. Jesus _forgives_ child. He does," Brandi insisted, comforting the obnoxiously sighing blond. She shot a look Finn's way and demanded, "But the Jews back in the box! They'll learn."

Finn quickly grabbed Rachel and Puck, somehow easily squashing their resistance as he drug them for the door, eager to get away from Quinn as she bawled as if she were on some soap opera as Brandi Walton stroked her head gently.

"Ms. Walton? I remember learning about Jesus before the _evil_ Jews kidnapped me…do you think…he really will forgive me? And can we sing a song of praise to Jesus? Please?"

Finn pushed Puck onto the porch and looked down at the box Puck had clearly spent the evening modifying. It seemed like it would be inescapable, but when looking closely on the inside, he could see where nails had been removed, providing an easy escape. Puck and Rachel would be a tight squeeze, but it wouldn't be for long…just until he and Quinn could get Brandi away from the cabin and back to her own home. Then it would be time for phase two.

"Quinn is really quite a good actress. Sure, there were instances where the lines seemed a little forced and stilted, but overall the effect was what we needed, I would say it was definitely an impressive debut," Rachel smiled between the boys. She looked at Noah her expression a definite request for similar praise to be heaped upon _her_.

"You were awesome, Berry-pants. A very convincing evil Jew lesbian," Noah chucked her chin approvingly.

"Yeah, I'm still…that was good," Finn mumbled, shifting slightly. "All right…give me and Quinn an hour or two…you guys will be-okay in there?"

Puck smirked at the plywood box and then to his friend and then looked at Rachel, "She's tiny…we're used to being cozy, anyway."

"Noah!" Rachel admonished, giving Finn a sheepish smile.

"I hate you Puck," Finn grumbled, clearly not ready or willing to hear about all the times Puck and Rachel had been _cozy_ in their secret hidden past.

"Whatever dude. Remember the plan. Send Quinn back to us and you work on the truck. We'll have everything taken care of. We're not spending another day at Jesus Camp," Puck promised. His hand went for Rachel's hand to guide her into their shared cramped quarters. He couldn't help the smirk that bloomed over the thought of being squished against her for the next few hours. Basic his ass. "Don't fuck up, Finn. We have to get out of here. I'm not getting fucking baptized."

"Got it. Good luck."

*****Elsewhere, July 2010*****

"_DUDE_."

Mike furrowed his brow and squinted slightly, not that it helped. He was still blindfolded and had been for three days. He turned his head to where he hoped his friend was and whispered back,

"Sup, Matt?"

"Eh, nothing much. Just thought we could take a minute to reflect or whatever," Matt threw out sarcastically. "What the hell man? How can you be so calm? We're fucking kidnapped and have no idea where we are…"

"I'm trying to be zen, dude," Mike admitted. "If my mind allows no harm to come to me…then no harm will come to me."

"I hate you Jackie Chang," Matt said miserably. "Of all the people I could have gotten kidnapped with, it was you. ZEN? _Idiot_. Cadillac would have shrieked our kidnappers brains out by now. Puck would have managed to Macguyver us out of the car. Hell, even Finn would have managed to blindly walk himself over a cliff and away from kidnapping danger. But no-I get the sixteen year old version of like, Mr. Miyagi and Spock rolled into one."

"Calm down," Mike insisted in a very zen-like manner. "The true heart of a ninja is calm. It makes the violent ninja stuff that much more fun."

"FUCK YOUR MOTHER! JUST CAUSE YOU'RE ASIAN, IT DOESN'T MEAN YOU'RE A FUCKING NINJA, DUDE!"

"And you're not Shaft either, but that doesn't stop Mercy from making that your ringtone on her cellie," Mike smiled.

…

…

"I miss my Cadillac," Matt pouted.

"Whatever, we'll see her soon. Promise. Nothing bad is going to happen."

"We're kidnapped dude. Our kidnappers haven't even spoken to us…we have no idea where we are…where we're going…nothin' man!"

"There is one thing," Mike shrugged, even though Matt couldn't see his gesture.

"What, you're a fake ninja with too much freaking ZEN?"

"No…I recognized the perfume of our kidnappers. It's a super-duper familiar scent. I know who kidnapped us…"

**###**

I'm giggling now. This story brings me ridiculousness and joy. And the fact that you guys enjoy reading gives me joy too. I have a rough outline of how this story is going, but no definite chapter number, and I'm being pretty free and easy about what I jam in here. It's a lot more easy-going than World Famous Sugar Cookies was, where I had an iron clad outline. I'm going wherever the crazy Fuickleberry train takes me.

So...will Puck and Finn be able to get Faberry to stop making out for five seconds so they can make their escape? Do they even WANT to stop them? How many more times can I get Faberry to make out in this story? And can I ever get Fick (Fuck? Pinn?) to make out? Will Brandi sing songs to her savior with Quinnie? Do I even know any songs about Jesus? What the hell are Puck and Rachel gonna do in a box for a few hours? Can I make one of the excellent smuckleberry writers do that part of the chapter? And how much have I missed Mike and Matt? SOOOO much.

All of these questions will be answered in our next installment. Sometime this weekend. Especially if I get swear words in the responses. heh.


	8. Chapter 8

Good evening everyone! Thanks for all the awesome responses. I crack up at swear words (Me=mentally 12). You were all very impressive potty mouths. A plus for the day.

So, just to let everyone know, I watched Step Up 3D yesterday. Totally worth the eight bucks and the cheese. Visually arresting is my professional movie going opinion. And Harry Shum Jr. is adorable as usual.

Okay, the rating has been increased to _M_. Sigh. I was hoping to keep it kosher y'all. But that's totally impossible given that it's Puckleberry. Dammit.

**-Chapter Eight-**

*****August 2010*****

The harsh, fluorescent lighting had never been such a welcome sight to four pairs of exhausted eyes. The glare caused all four teenagers to squint as they very slowly and stealthily walked the labyrinth like maze of hallways in what they assumed was the fifth basement level of the Bellagio hotel. Puck had informed them that he had counted the _feeling_ of each floor when they had been led down to the basement blindfolded.

"You're a crackpot," Finn accused, looking to the girls for backup and finding none.

"He hasn't gotten us killed yet," Quinn shrugged, gripping Finn's hand in her own and squeezing in a reassuring gesture, as if to take some of the sting off that her confidence in her baby daddy had induced.

"And he won't, I have complete and total faith in Noah," Rachel smiled as brightly as she could as her best friend smirked back at her and took two steps forward. "What now, Noah?"

"Yeah, fearless leader…who managed to somehow turn a simple rescue mission into getting involved in a casino robbery…what now?" Finn rolled his eyes. "And how are we gonna manage to not you know…make the evil robbers _kill_ the others in retaliation for screwing up the robbery plan thing?"

"Trust me," Puck insisted gruffly.

Quinn shivered as his words induced a short, terrifying flashback. She swallowed the urge to start rocking back and forth in the fetal position as she watched the father to her bastard child peaking around the corner with a small compact mirror that he had kept in his pocket.

"How'd you get that?" Quinn wondered. "I could have used that a month ago to like…fix my hair when we were in the wild."

"Berry-pants makes me keep some stuff in my pockets. Old habits," Puck shrugged. He met Quinn's curiosity with a non-committal shrug and a leering smirk, "She doesn't have much room for anything in those skirts…I'm the default pocket."

"I love it when he wears cargo shorts," Rachel nodded with a quirk of her eyebrows. "I get to carry three _different_ lip glosses then. And you know Quinn how essential it is to have beauty and fashion options available at your fingertips."

Quinn shook her head in amusement and she squeezed Finn's hand again before muttering, "I used to make Finn carry my mascara."

"Sometimes I still do…I know my mom still cuts the coupons cause I used to have to replace them when I'd melt them in the microwave," Finn remembered fondly. He was met with a questioning look from both Puck and Rachel and sighed before explaining, "I like to warm my pants on cold days sometimes."

"Fucking Pogo stick," Puck chuckled. He held up a hand suddenly as he saw movement flitter across the mirror. "There are three dudes left in there…they've got guns."

"And we're out, no more guns, _please_," Quinn begged.

"If they wanted us dead, they would have wasted us like, forever ago," Puck reminded her. He looked between the three people he had spent the entire summer with, three people he had effectively been through hell and back with. "I won't let anything bad happen to you guys…I promise."

"I believe you," Rachel and Quinn said in unison, before looking at each other sheepishly.

Finn felt another squeeze of his hand and he looked down as Quinn looked up at him expectantly. He let a small, tight smile take over his countenance before asking, "Alright…what do you have in mind, man?"

*****July 2010*****

_##"__He wraps himself in Light, and darkness tries to hide  
And trembles at His voice  
Trembles at His voice_

_How great is our God, sing with me  
How great is our God, and all will see  
How great, how great is our God "##_

"Wow...Miss Walton…your voice is like a gift from angels," Quinn smiled in adoration up at the woman who was currently brushing her hair. Quinn did her best not to betray her true thoughts on the matter as she did her very best to appear as the doting, repentant girl that Brandi certainly wanted her to be.

"Why thank you, Quinn. I think that your voice is very nice as well. However-"

Quinn furrowed her brow slightly, allowing easy tears to pool in her eyes. She had used the tears in her past life against her father like a seemingly deadly weapon. Not allowed to go with her friends to the mall? BANG! Tears and she was given the beamer and his gold American Express card with no curfew. Not permitted to attend the concert in Cleveland? BANG! She was set up with the hottest VIP suite and a hired car to and from the concert. Knocked up at sixteen? Bang! Out on her ass without a second thought. So- - - maybe there was a limit to the power of the beautiful tears after all, but she was sure Brandi would buy them.

"The song is a little too-rock and roll, which we all know is the heathen's music. I believe that your voice is more ideally suited to a lovely children's hymn…do you remember any from your life before those evil Jews?" Brandi wondered, working at French braiding Quinn's hair into pig tails.

Quinn forced another docile, gentile smile and took a deep breath as Finn came into the room with a tray of steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Brandi finished her braiding and Finn handed her a cup as Quinn began to softly sing,

_##"1,2,3 Jesus loves me  
1,2 Jesus loves you  
2,3,4 He loves you more  
than you've ever been loved before.  
5,6,7 I'm on my way to heaven,  
8,9 soon to be mine  
8,9,10 Its time to win  
Now lets all sing it again"##_

Finn blushed, remembering that song very clearly. She used to sing it to him, replacing Jesus with his name. He had thought it insanely cute, and if he were forced to tell the truth at that moment, he would still say it was insanely cute. He shook his head from side to side as he watched Brandi gulp down her hot cocoa. He had to get these smushy feelings he had for Quinn out of his head. She had just given birth to Puck's daughter less than a month ago. And on that very same day he had told Rachel that he loved her.

Of course that was before he had learnt of Rachel and Puck's secret life-long friendship. He knew all the jokes about his own intelligence, and he would readily admit that he wasn't the smartest guy in the room. But he had been stalked by Rachel for the first half of the school year. He would think that Puck would have done something about that…

"That was lobley…lovely, child," Brandi smiled, her voice thick and her eyelids heavy. "Sing it again…"

Quinn did as she was told, standing next to Finn, feeling brave and strong as Finn suddenly gripped her hand. They watched as Brandi slowly faded into deep, unconscious black.

"I hope we didn't kill her," Finn whispered, as Quinn finished the song again.

"It's Ambien and Valium. She'll live," Quinn said softly. Her OB-GYN had hooked her up with sweet meds to stave off post-partum. Apparently giving your bastard child up for adoption made depression that much more likely in new teenage mothers. She sighed and quickly went to work, reaching for the blankets on the couch and wrapping Brandi up in them as Finn went for the rope that Puck had found while wandering around the grounds the previous night. "Although, people like her? People like her would have spit in my face when I was pregnant. Don't get me wrong, I still love Christianity and whatever, but there's got to be some sort of middle ground."

"I'll take care of the knots," Finn assured Quinn, seeing that she was two steps away from becoming an emotional wreck. He sort of wished he hadn't used all of her meds to drug their kidnapper. "You go and get Rach and Puck, I gotta get the list of what Puck told me to get. I'll meet you at the truck."

*****The Box, July 2010*****

"What in the ever loving hell are you wearing, Berry-pants?"

Rachel took a deep breath and blushed slightly as she looked down at her plain white cotton dress. It was what Brandi had thrown at her and Quinn yesterday after they had washed themselves in the outdoor shower. Brandi had deemed it proper Christian clothing for children, but Rachel knew that most of her skirts hit lower on her thigh than the dress did. And that made the dress _seriously short_.

"Good Christian girls wear these, apparently," Rachel squirmed as she lay on her side, opposite Puck in the very cramped quarters of the repentance box. She gave a dissecting look into Noah's gaze, her eyes blinking rapidly as she tried to read his emotions. "Are we going to be okay, Noah?"

"We'll be fan-freaking-tastic as soon as we get the hell out of Jesus Camp," Puck assured her. He squeezed her shoulders and left his hand there, his thumb rubbing slow circles. "I wonder how long it'll take Finn to drug that crazy bitch."

"I'm sure they'll do their cunning best," Rachel nodded. "I'm sure that you and I could have accomplished the task sooner…but we're…"

"Evil, evil Jews," Puck laughed, his hand drifted from her shoulder, down her back, pulling her closer, if it were possible in such cramped quarters. "_Evil. _Naughty."

"Basic," Rachel whispered.

"Berry-pants, we might _die_, and I haven't had action since…"Puck faltered and a horrified expression took over his face. "Damn, since we went to Carmel that night after our funk number."

"Really?" Rachel whispered.

"I wouldn't lie to you," Puck scoffed. "I haven't gotten laid since Quinn. That's forever and a fucking day there."

"You're _kidding_!" Rachel exclaimed. "But Santana?"

"Sexting only."

"April Rhoads?"

"Barely cognizant BJ."

"Quinn?"

"Yeah right, I didn't want her DOUBLE pregnant!"

"…Mercedes?"

Puck laughed in a manner which Rachel could only describe as _uproarious_. He calmed down and said, "You know what Matt would do to me? I mean…I like the little Puckster way too much. He's a cool dude…maybe you two should meet…"

"Noah," Rachel breathed reproachfully, although she wasn't stopping his hand from traveling downwards, squeezing her bottom in an almost worshipful manner

"What if I die without ever having touched your boobs?" Puck whispered, feeling his eyebrow quirk upwards as she placed a hand on the side of his cheek.

"I'm not having sex with you in a box…"Rachel said reproachfully. "It's not the most romantic way I can picture my first time."

"Berry-pants we don't actually have to do you know- _it_," Puck smirked. "There's plenty of other fun shit. And you already know how to do that…I know you do."

Rachel squinted her eyes at him dangerously and he chuckled before admitting, "If only cause you caught me doing it from time to time."

"This is so very, _very_ far from basic, Noah," Rachel murmured, her hand traveling further down his chest, her fingers fidgeting against the button to his jeans.

"We could _die_," Puck repeated, his own fingers dancing along the bottom of the dress she had been forced to wear by their captor. "And I feel that its only right that you experience one little thing before something like that happens."

"Noah!" Rachel giggled as his hands quickly went to work. She bit her lip in tortured pleasure and found her own hands wandering in a similar pattern, on their own accord. And further giggling or cooing was muffled by his lips as he heatedly kissed her. His mouth seemed just as greedy and eager as his hand and time seemed to evaporate. Their dangerous situation they had landed themselves seemed to only add fuel to an already fully stoked fire.

"I love you, Berry-pants," Puck groaned as they continued their mutual ministrations, his mind completely melted inside of his skull. He couldn't understand how her tiny hand was providing the most amazing friction, torque and pressure in the world. Man-hands indeed. He would never be able to do this himself again. As soon as they were safe, he was going to trick her into signing an exclusive hand-job contract.

She paused momentarily and blinked her eyes very rapidly at him. Her mouth fell open and he took it as an invitation, his tongue rolling slow and languid circles against her own causing her to whimper at the sensation. She trembled against him as his rough fingers sought out her soft, wet skin, moving quickly then slowly, then quickly again as his tongue and fingers seemed to perform identical choreography. She pulled away from his mouth and gasped, "N—Noah, what did you say?"

"Mmhmm, Love you Berry-pants," Puck whispered. "Fucking love you."

"Oh god," Rachel shuddered, feeling a wave of heat rush right through her as a tickling pressure exploded under Puck's skillfull hands. Her hips bucked wildly in time with her own hand and soon Puck joined her as they both came to their own dizzying conclusions.

They were breathless and spent as Puck tenderly kissed her lips repeatedly. Rachel eventually recovered her powers of speech and couldn't help but take a deep breath before she launched herself into rapid speech between quick pecks against her lips.

"Noah, I can't believe that you actually said those words. I was already pleasing you with my hand, obviously saying _that_ wasn't going to get you more, and there isn't adequate space or room for the flexibility required for anything further than what we just did…which leads me to wonder why you would actually let those words fall from your lips…"

"Flexibility, huh?" Puck raised an eyebrow.

"Noah," Rachel scolded. "You told me that you loved me."

"S'true. I thought you knew it already. Didn't think I was dropping some bombshell," Puck shrugged.

"I…I didn't know. There have been instances in our lives together wherein I knew I was your best friend and I knew that we loved each other in that way, but-"

"I love you, Berry-pants," Puck repeated softly. He met her gaze and hoped to convey just what love he meant. Not just best friends. Not just childhood cohorts. Not just girlfriend love. He didn't know how he could convey to her what he meant.

He didn't have to try, because she seemed to get it as she kissed him again, sweet and slow and dazed. He felt a ray of sunshine explode over them and he thought for sure it was like God saying _Good job, Hot Jews_ at finally having gotten on the right path to eventually creating an army of hot Jews.

"GOD! DISGUSTING! GROSS! Could you two like…stop mating for five seconds? We could all _die_ here!"

Rachel pulled away from Puck slowly, a flush on her face, looking as if she were in no hurry to distance herself from him as Quinn stood above them looking as if she might vomit at any moment.

"You two are so…ewww!" Quinn shuddered. "Are you done with the ridiculous shenanigans? Can we like, ESCAPE crazy town now?"

*****Elsewhere, July 2010*****

"Hey San? Remember like, when the Powerpuff girls tried to get revenge on the evil giant monkey thing?"

"Yeah sweetie, I remember," Santana smiled at Brittany indulgently.

"Well they totally _failed_, and then they got grounded with no candy," Brittany pouted.

"That was sad, sure, but they were being super bad and breaking rules. We're not breaking anything, sweetie," Santana insisted smoothly.

Brittany bit her lip and pouted slightly before regrouping her thoughts and trying again, "Remember when I tried to take revenge over the robot that was stealing my homework?"

"HA! You blew up your step-sister-in-law's crappy Toyota Camry," Santana laughed. "That_ totally _ worked out, Brit-brit. Andrea got a shiny new car out of the deal from the insurance money."

"Yeah, her kids like the new DVD player in the back of the mini-van," Brittany sighed, still not ready to accept her defeat she thought long and hard before coming up with, "Remember when Puck tried to take revenge on Finn for kissing Rachel? Quinn got totally pregnant. And I don't want us to have a baby until they find a cure for stretch marks."

"Brit, calm the _fuck_ down, okay?" Santana sighed, checking her phone for messages for the fiftieth time in the last fifteen minutes. "This is only a small pit-stop on our way to eternal summer glory. Or at least it will be as long as Rachel or Puck stop hiding away and actually _show up_ for the fun plans I have this summer."

"If I have car sex with you, will you forget about the revenge?"

Santana stared at Brittany sultrily and licked her lips as her mind wandered. She shook her head clear and said, "No, we're almost there. Keep trying to call Rachel's cell phone."

"Fine..." Brittany accepted defeat easily. She dialed Rachel for at least the fiftieth time that day and got her voicemail. "Hi Rachel! It's Brittany, again. You should call, because you definitely don't want Santana plotting revenge on you for ruining her summer. Cause right now, we've driven eight hundred miles and San's spent at least three thousand dollars of her college fund in order to exact revenge on someone else who totally pissed her off in the past. So you should call back and we can totally have a girl-time sleepover. It's time for you and Quinn to get initiated anyway. So…okay. Call back! Bye!"

**###**

**Song Credits are some random lyrics I pulled off the inter-highway. Christian music is really one of the few genres I'm not totally into. That and death metal...weird**.

- So, seriously? Have Fuickleberry always let Puck do the planning? And if so, shouldn't they have stopped after you know, getting kidnapped and then whatever happens from here until the Bellagio? How on Earth are they going to overpower three criminals with guns? How on Earth are they going to escape Camp Jesus? How on Earth are Puck and Rachel going to keep their hands off each other now that I've made this story rated M? And what in the hell are Brittany and Santana doing that its so important that Santana turned down Brittany car sex? I'm straight and probably wouldn't turn down Brittany car sex.

So...all of these questions and more M rated situations may be answered or come up in the next installment. Which I am ridiculously excited about.

Thanks as always, for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

So, I'm barely paying attention to the Teen Choice Awards. I know I'm a selfish, singularly minded fan, but whey can't every segment have an awesome Glee person in it? All these other people are boring. Except for Kenny Jueong. He's the shiz. Asian power!

Okay...this is a seriously long chapter for the crack fic. I couldn't stop writing. Please enjoy...

**-Chapter Nine-**

*****August 2010*****

Puck noiselessly and swiftly walked down the hallway, showing stealth that only a truly gifted juvenile delinquent would have. He crouched low at the end of the hallway and held up his fist. His partners in crime came to a complete, silent stop at his command and waited, crouching, ready to attack. They were well-versed in the plan, the possible contingencies and plan alternates. Sure, they were four teenagers, but they were ready to take these guys down.

"This is so awesome. It's totally Call of Duty…"

Puck held his fist higher and smacked Finn in the head sharply. Even the slightest whisper would throw off everything. Of course he agreed with Finn, he felt like a badass video game character at the moment, but he didn't feel the need to freaking coo about it like an amused toddler.

"HEY! Where'd Mack and Tony go? I swear to God, that if they're messing with those girls in the vault, I'm gonna cover their balls in breadcrumbs and then shove a box of rats down their pants…"

Puck felt Finn squirm and he gave his friend a knowing look. Shit…he still hadn't gotten to go the bathroom.

"Go and rustle them up, Tim. We need to get into this vault. Like yesterday, friend."

Puck looked to the other side of the hallway where Quinn and Rachel looked like scared bunnies, clasping their hands together as they crouched low, tensed and waiting for the inevitable confrontation. He swallowed and looked to Finn, who nodded tersely as they heard the approaching footsteps. A door creaked open and shut and a quite a few things happened all at once, the action was blurry and wild and the boys couldn't help but feel that they had been taken out of the video game and thrown into a Jason Bourne movie.

"What the-"

The thug's voice was cut off as Rachel suddenly flung herself at the man's back, stealthily clinging to him like a freaking monkey as small arms quickly gripped his neck in a headlock, applying the exact right amount of pressure on the exactly correct spot to render his voice totally useless. Quinn shoved one of Finn's socks into the guy's mouth and quickly maneuvered around the staggering, voiceless man and Rachel, who was still clinging tightly to his back with a piece of fabric that had been ripped from Puck's shirt. The gag was in place and tied incredibly tightly as the unfortunate criminal gagged on the sweaty sock. Rachel hopped off of the man's back and Quinn gripped her hand once more and scurried out of the way, allowing the two boys to step up.

If they could have read each other's minds at that moment, Finn and Puck would have whole heartedly been in agreement. This plan was fan-_fucking-_tastic. Every ounce of aggression that had been boiling in their bodies since the age of ten came out in a rush of really awesome violence. Puck focused on crushing his fist against the dude's midsection, expelling short, staccato breaths with each blow that landed. Finn focused on the guy's head and in the matter of sixty seconds, the criminal was rendered completely unconscious.

Rachel squeezed Quinn's hand and Quinn smirked at her, knowing what dirty thoughts were zipping through the brunette's mind.

"Yeah yeah, violence is bad, but that was totally hot," Quinn murmured. She felt her lips curling upwards even more as Finn dragged the unconscious body further down the hall. "Look at him…he's all hot and sweaty and…"

"Invigorated and glowing and gorgeous," Rachel finished, instead of staring at Finn, watching as Puck cracked his knuckles and surveyed their situation.

Puck smiled down at the girls and said, "You two are like cat's in heat. Try not to spray the hallway, 'kay?"

*****July 2010*****

"Dude, you got it?" Puck demanded as he gripped Rachel's and Quinn's hand as they navigated the uneven earth of Brandi's farm. He caught Finn's scowl at him holding _both_ of their hands and narrowed his eyes in retaliation. "If they trip and fall, their gonna hurt their ankles. We can't carry them everywhere."

"Whatever, man," Finn furrowed his brow, sniffing the air like a greyhound.

_Well shit_.

Here's the thing about having a hardcore best bro for six years out of your life. The dude can freaking _sense_ when he's gotten some kind of action. The first time this was demonstrated was when they turned fourteen and Finn, Matt and Mike could all tell that he had gotten to third base with one of the junior varsity Cheerios. The friends just _knew_ the day after the first time Mike had been allowed to witness Brittany and Santana's special girl time. And Matt had even known the day after Finn had lost his V-card to Santana. It was like a Spidey-sense of Sex and sure an outsider would have thought it at least mildly disturbing, but the four friends had just used this super power to bond further, bumping fists in congratulations at their most righteous scores.

"Get in the truck!" Puck ordered his friend as he hoisted Quinn then Rachel into the cab.

Finn looked as if his head was about to explode as he demanded in a frighteningly low voice, "Which one, dude?"

"Get in the truck, Finn. Now is not the time," Puck growled back.

"FINN!" Quinn demanded, holding out her hand for the boy to get in the truck. "Please?"

Finn acquiesced and the quartet where snugly secure in Brandi's truck cab. Puck made the engine roar to life and he quickly got the behemoth vehicle moving, going directly towards the six-foot high security fence.

"Hold on tight!" Puck ordered, squinting at his target severely as Rachel's hands went around his waist as tightly as they could.

The fence gave way with a sickening screeching crunch and the gray dusk of night was lit up suddenly with sparks from the clashing of metal. Puck swallowed as he continued to hurtle the truck cab through the densely wooded area, dodging as gracefully as he could with the huge truck. Five minutes had put at least five miles between the teenagers and their crazy kidnapper.

"Noah…there's a creek up ahead," Rachel said desperately, clinging to him as the truck jostled violently over the forest floor.

"PUCK?" Quinn screeched as they rapidly approached the stream, obviously he had no intention of stopping. She curled herself into Finn's strong embrace as they were jostled by the truck moving over a thick layer of pebbles.

"Floor it dude!" Finn advised, letting out a whoop of both fear and excitement as Puck followed his directions.

They careened wildly over the shallow waters, Puck gripping the wheel as tightly as he could, giving quick yanks to the left and right to avoid hydroplaning and tipping the truck cab. They reached the other side and were going far too fast as the truck dove into the woods again, veering back and forth in the rough terrain. Puck's eyes widened in sudden fear as his foot hit the brake and he took his hands off the wheel, turning his body so as to shield Rachel's, watching as Finn did the same with Quinn as they crashed into a very large tree.

Silent moments passed as the truck's engine died and the creaking and moaning of the tree was the only sound in the quiet and cool evening air. A sickening crack cut through the silence and Puck squeezed Rachel's body tighter as a large tree branch fell onto the truck, smashing in the front window. Quinn whimpered as she felt a wave of shattered glass hit Finn's arm, rebounding and scratching at her cheek. Silence permeated the night again and the quartet inspected each other as best they could for injury.

"Everyone out," Puck ordered, happy to see that they were all alive and no worse for the wear. "We're eight miles and a creek away from Brandi and she has no way to get to us even after she wakes up from her magic hot cocoa…Let's walk another mile and we can set up camp for a few hours of sleep…then we head to the road and away from Jesus camp."

"Sounds good," Finn nodded, gripping the bag full of the provisions he had been instructed to gather. "I stole her soup. Chicken and stars. Quinn's favorite."

Rachel wrinkled her nose and Puck squeezed her shoulder, "I know you don't eat meat…"

"Don't be silly, this forest is full of lush vegetation, I'm sure I can find some form of sustenance on the way to avoid the horror of eating poor, defenseless chickens," Rachel asserted with a ridiculous amount of bravado.

They walked away from the smoldering truck and continued their path through the woods to what they all hoped was civilization. They utilized the quickly waning light to gather firewood and in Rachel's case, perfectly acceptable organic vegetation. They found a place in the middle of the mountain where there was a fresh water pool and a natural clearing. Finn went about making a fire while Puck set up their temporary shelter with the blankets that Finn had absconded from Brandi's cabin.

"Where is Quinn?" Rachel wondered, looking up from her food preparation curiously. "She hasn't insulted me in five minutes."

"Here…" Quinn announced holding something in her hands like a prize. She grinned at the boys and said, "While you ladies were setting up camp, I totally scored us some meat."

Rachel gasped as Quinn went about preparing her freshly caught animal. The young blonde had been the second daughter of an avid hunter. Only Finn knew that she was extremely adept at snaring wild animals. He smiled at her winningly as Puck cringed at the tears in Rachel's eyes.

"You killed Thumper!" Rachel wailed suddenly. "Why on Earth? You…we had Chicken and Stars soup, why would you need to hurt the poor bunny?"

"Bunny is delicious," Quinn insisted strongly. "You're CRAZY, Rupaul. It's not Thumper…it's not the Cadburry bunny. It's just a wild hare from the foothills of West Virginia…my Dad would have given me a hundred dollars for catching this back in the day."

"It was a poor defenseless creature!" Rachel insisted dramatically.

"It's the circle of life," Quinn countered obnoxiously. "You'll be a part of it when your body is seriously out of protein and you get eaten by a bear or something."

The boys continued to put together their makeshift campgrounds while the girls prepared their food. Rachel dished out soup for the boys, to which Quinn added freshly grilled meat. And she had been right. It was seriously delicious. Rachel pouted into her mushrooms, stoically avoiding conversation.

"I'll take some of those," Puck suddenly announced holding out his small bowl for some of Rachel's mushrooms. "They look good, Berry-pants."

"Thank you Noah," Rachel turned on her mega-watt grin, giving him a share to mix in with what was now a stew of Chicken and Stars, rabbit and wild mushrooms. She felt a tap on her shoulder and her smile softened shyly as Finn held out his bowl as well. She looked at Quinn questioningly and the blonde rolled her eyes and held out her bowl, accepting a few grilled mushrooms.

"Despite the fact that in a few hours we'll have an insane psychopath diligently chasing us, and the very real possibility that the police will be chasing as well since we did at least eight illegal things today…this is a little fun," Rachel admitted. She turned to Puck and grinned again, "Remember all the fun we had in the Poconos two summers ago?"

"I lit my hair on fire and we made out constantly. Yeah. I remember the awesome," Puck smirked.

"Ugh…made out constantly," Quinn shivered, flashing back to what she had been forced to witness between the two Jews when she had let them out of the repentance box. "Gross."

"Gross…ggrrrrroooooooossss. GRRRRRR! Oooos," Finn babbled, taking another bite of his food. "GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR…"

"oss," Quinn finished with a giggle.

"Grossity gross of the grossest grossness!" Rachel enunciated very clearly before laughing her head off.

Puck looked between his three travel companions warily before a very familiar feeling began to take over. Yeah…he used to score shit from the Chronic Lady all the time. Before Sandy Ryerson fell into Pot heaven this past year, he had _always_ specialized in one thing. And Puck had partaken in it more times than he could count.

"Berry-pants?" he whispered, looking next to him to see her giggling and suddenly lovely pink lights lit up all around her beautiful face. He reached out and touched one of them, laughing when it eluded his grasp. He put his hand on her face and was overwhelmed at the sensation. He loved to touch her, but never before had her skin felt so amazing.

"I love you too, Noah," Rachel whispered. "Fucking love you."

"WOW! Manhands swore!" Quinn shrieked in delight. She climbed on top of Finn to be closer to Rachel and she clapped her hands together, not even bothering to stop Finn's wandering hands from writing his name on her backside. "DO IT AGAIN!"

"Berry-pants?" Noah said again. "You're beautiful…and smart….and talented…and you totally just got us all high?"

"With the power of my melodic voice?" Rachel wondered dreamily, reaching out into the night air. "There's music everywhere, Noah. It's in the air. It's all over your face. Your face is a song!"

"Quinn is now mine forever. I wrote my name on her," Finn announced, before going back to doodling his name with his index finger in the air. "And the air is mine too. Every time you breath or look at Quinn, I get a nickel."

"Quinn…I have to confess to you, that for the better part of this year, I thought that I could ferret Finn away from you…and I apologize because I feel that I have led you both astray in the fact that I kept the _true_ Puckleberry hidden for the last six years…"

"You're like a soap opera…I'm watching a life soap opera. These are the days of our Berry…" Quinn giggled, watching Rachel's face intently.

"Berry-pants, focus!" Puck ordered. He laughed when she whipped her head his way, amused by the way the sparkling lights that lit her face danced at her movement. "I've been saying that to you forever…you always listen. Like what I say's important."

"Coming soon on Days of Our Berry…" Quinn whispered. She giggled as Finn hit a sensitive spot of her body and she tackled him off of the log he had been perched on. "You wrote your name on me!"

"Cause now you're Finn's Quinn," Finn nodded with the most serious expression he could muster. "Finn's Quinn's Pin's Bin's Din's Min's Win's."

"Those aren't words!" Quinn cooed. She rolled over, gripping Finn with her as they rolled further and further away from the campfire.

"Hey! Where are you two going?" Puck demanded, feeling gravity pull at his high.

"To make out in a box!" Quinn laughed maniacally as they rolled a safe distance from camp. There was silence for a moment and then,

"I totally wrote my name on your tongue with my tongue! Now it belongs to me too!" Finn shrieked excitedly.

"Sing a song!" Quinn demanded before loudly smacking her lips against Finn's neck. "We're in a movie, we need a song!"

"I am so prepared to perform!" Rachel said with fevered excitement, standing up and griping Puck's hand, dragging his reluctant body into a standing position. "Noah, we must take this opportunity with the largest amount of enthusiasm you can muster. For young musical artists such as ourselves, our greatest opportunity to make the largest impact on our key demographic is to have our song featured in a popular teenage romantic comedy. Much like Hayley Williams and Paramore did in Twilight with their career defining song _Decode_, we must seize this opportunity with relish and…GUSTO!"

"Kay," Puck shrugged. "Can we sing something that doesn't suck?"

"I'm open to non-sucking suggestions," Rachel nodded. "Mostly due to the fact that for some strange reason I can't remember one single song in the entire universe! NOAH! My brain is broken! It's BROKEN!"

_##"I told you that you would put on some weight  
You went out with somebody named Finn Hudson!  
You preferred to go to a volleyball game  
I told you that you couldn't be more lame "###_

Rachel's eyes lit up as suddenly her brain stopped melting and she immediately knew the lyrics to the song Puck sang with a smirk. She reached out with expectant arms, and Puck immediately complied, accepting her waltz frame as they slowly danced around the fire. She grinned and sang along with him,

_##"No way, we ain't gonna break up  
We made a promise and our will won't fade out  
Not just in oh-eight and oh-nine  
we'll be together from now until the end of time  
you got the Shirley Appleby look  
I'm totally caught up in your hook  
You know that we are gonna be okay  
We'll stick together as we're trippin' down the freeway "##  
_

Finn's voice suddenly echoed from the private makeout spot that he and Quinn had rolled to, joining in the song that he and Puck had made their official _Let's get High_ soundtrack.

_##"You withheld the physical love I need  
I said "hey, that I'm gonna play left field"  
You broke down and told me you loved me true  
I said "Girl, I got to be with you" "##  
_

_"No way, we ain't gonna break up_," Quinn sang sweetly, before shutting Finn up totally by kissing him ardently.

_"I made a promise and our will won't fade out," _ Rachel cooed at Puck, stopping their lazy waltz as they danced in the classic middle school style her head resting on his shoulder.

_"Not just in oh-nine and oh-ten,we'll be together from now until the very end,"_ Puck sang. "_You know that we are gonna be okay, we'll stick together as we're trippin' down the freeway_."

*****Elsewhere, July 2010*****

Mike felt the car lurch to a stop and turned his head to face Matt, who was sniffing the air once more. He couldn't help a tiny smile as he asked, "Whatcha got?"

"Finn just got laid," Matt said seriously. "Good to know that while we're kidnapped, one of our best buds is enjoying girlie goodies."

"Huh…I wonder, not Rachel? Cause I'm not holding Puck back if Finn is idiotic enough to go there," Mike said seriously. He turned his blind gaze curiously as the door opened. "Are we there yet?"

The boys were yanked unceremoniously from the car and pushed blindly down a street. A street clearly filled with people as a curious murmur went through the air. A pair of lips were against Mike's ear and he smirked knowingly.

"Dance." The unseen person demanded sweetly.

Matt jumped out of his skin as someone hissed in his ear, "Beat box. Now."

He swallowed nervously before complying, softly at first, but gaining more volume and confidence as the unseen crowd clearly got into it. He could feel a breeze hit his face and knew that his best friend was popping, locking and being a boy on strings to the pretty awesome freestyling he was pushing. He was in a zone and time seemed to disappear as they continued their impromptu performance, blindfolded in front of a nearly frenzied crowd.

"Always remember what I'm about to do to you. Remember that this is my revenge."

Matt froze, his lips puckered in mid-beat as he felt a strong pair of hands grip at his waistband.

Santana.

Oh. _Shit_.

"PANTSED!"

**# # #**

**Song credit: "Tripping Down the Freeway" by Weezer. I'm showing my age here, but Weezer is super awesome. This is from Raditude. Super fun song.**

So, are Fuickleberry all secret ninjas now? Are they going to take down a bunch of gun-toting criminals with the power of Finn's stinky socks alone? And seriously? How conceited is Puck going to get after badassly crashing Brandi's truck to smithereens? And seriously, how secretly innocent are all four of these kids if they just ate wild mushrooms without even thinking that they could be the good shrooms? And how long will they be high? Are they going to continue to make a living musical so long as they're high? And Santana's much needed revenge was pantsing Matt? That shit happened six years ago. Crazy (awesome) witch. And where have Santana and Brittany taken the boys? Was Matt wearing boxers or briefs?

All of these questions and so many more will be answered in Chapter 10 of **Fuickleberry Saves the World: The Dramatic and Badass Rescue of Mike Chang and Matt Rutherford!**


	10. Chapter 10

Note: Goodness gracious. I apologize profusely. I lost my muse. And then last week I went to Vegas. I could be cool and say that it was all for research on a cracky fanfic, but it was actually a lovely birthday present from my parents. I did get to research a little, but sadly, no chance to get into a Bellagio vault. I will try to keep the muse around, because I _hate_ abandoned fics. And I should find plenty of encouragement with my DVD set and the premier TOMORROW. Weee!

Thanks for sticking with this.

**Fuickleberry Saves the World: The Dramatic and Badass Rescue of Mike Chang and Matt Rutherford!**

**-Chapter Ten-**

*****August 2010*****

"There are three of them left."

Finn actually had three fingers in front of him, having taken at least a full minute to count the remaining criminals that they had not subdued yet. He ran the count again, and the girls were impressed that he had learnt how to proofread his thoughts and he nodded.

"Three. We can get three more."

Puck buried the need to mock his friend's lengthy counting process as he stared at the locked door to the massive vaults of money that contained the three remaining robbers that had explosives, guns and the lack of conscious required to totally kill all of them. He would never admit it out loud, but they had been incredibly lucky with the previous thugs. How much longer could they all survive on pure luck, Finn's sweaty socks and Rachel's ability to break glass with her voice alone?

He felt her hand on his chest, placed right above his heart and he managed to slowly move his eyes away from the door that could contain all of their deaths to a pair of incredibly tired, yet still sparkly brown eyes. The look of confidence and complete and utter faith Rachel conveyed seemed to transport him back in time, when they were twelve and his summertime shenanigans on Suck-it-lots had led the both of them to an eighteen-hour entrapment on the roof of the synagogue.

She had berated him for forty-five minutes and used a shit ton of big words to lay a lot of guilt and blame on him before she started to hyperventilate. And as she was heaving huge gasping breaths as he begged for her to calm down, something clicked within him and he had made every right move in order to make sure she didn't asphyxiate herself due to his insane need for pranks. And when she was finally calm she had gazed up at him with those shiny brown doe eyes and given him all the thanks he needed.

"We're not done yet, Berry-pants," he whispered.

"You've gotten us this far, which is beyond commendable. Without you, the three of us would have died at the entrance to the pizza parlor back in Lima," Rachel murmured, a soft smile gracing her lips. "You can do this. Just tell us what to do."

Puck closed his eyes again, taking deep even breaths as the gears in his mind he had used only for mischief and random small felonies in the past spun, formulating a plan. He blinked his eyes back open when he felt a feather soft touch on his lips as Rachel kissed him softly.

"I know that I find you quite attractive when you're in a protective or possessive stance over me, as shameless as that may seem…but truly, the thinking and plotting?" Rachel bit her lips and shrugged helplessly. "It's incredibly appealing."

"Just say I turn you on, Berry-pants. It's cool, no one would blame you," Puck smirked as her cheeks reddened. He grabbed her hand suddenly and pushed on the shoulder of Finn, who had Quinn wrapped up in a comforting embrace towards the door to the vault.

"Uhm, what the ever freaking hell, Puck?" Quinn hissed as he situated the three of them at the door.

"Dude? Seriously, what's going on?" Finn whispered.

"Seriously?" Puck looked between the three people he had spent nearly every waking moment with over the past few weeks of this completely hellish summer. He pursed his lips momentarily before admitting. "I kind of love you guys. Not in the gay way, Hudson. See you in a few."

He tore his gaze away from the three astonished expressions and banged on the vault door as forcefully as he could before, turning on his heel and high-tailing it back down the hall away from the cohorts he had just handed over to the wolves.

*****July 2010*****

"PUCK!"

"Leave me alone…m'busy," Puck mumbled groggily as his arms tightened around Rachel, who had collapsed on top of him sleepily after having gone through at least ten of Weezer's greatest hits. He didn't care what anyone thought, when Rachel belted out the Sweater Song as if it were a show stopping Broadway ballad, he had tears in his eyes.

"I'M STUCK IN A TREE AND FINN IS TOO SCARED TO CLIMB UP TO GET ME!"

Puck rolled his eyes and nudged at Rachel, whose eyes instantly sprung open, still a little unfocused and too dilated to be normal.

"Watching Grunge Leg drop New-Jack through a press table!" she desperately whisper sang. She shook her head in an attempt to be free of her daze but failed miserably. Puck laughed and she rolled her eyes, "I'm not funny, please cease and desist with the laughter."

"You are high-larious, get it?" Puck tickled her sides slightly. He was still feeling the effects of Rachel's vegetarian cuisine and the tickles soon turned into caressing her torso appreciatively, his sense of touch seemingly heightened and intensified.

"Dude, please stop feeling Rachel up and help Quinn! She's gonna DIE up there!" Finn demanded as he marched purposefully towards the dying fire. "And you know, just stop feeling Rachel up. Don't do it anymore!"

"Says the man who just got laid in the woods with my baby mama," Puck rolled his eyes as he reluctantly tore himself away from Rachel and rose to his feet. "How the hell did you bang Quinn into a tree, anyway Finnabella?"

"She climbed there after," Finn said sheepishly. He watched as Puck laughed and stalked off. Finn cleared his throat and looked down at Rachel guiltily. "Hey."

"You're ridiculously tall now that I can see clearly," Rachel whispered back, shooting him an apologetic smile.

Finn sat down next to the girl he had proclaimed his love to less than a month ago and stared at one particular spot on her ankle with a melancholy he didn't quite understand. He cleared his throat again before saying softly, "I think I just kind of cheated on you."

"Yes, I believe cheating occurred," Rachel nodded thoughtfully.

"But I know you and Puck did something too…I mean, I can sort of sense these things," Finn supplied guiltily.

"There was no exchange of bodily fluids," Rachel clarified as scientifically as possible. "It was much more of a…mutual stimulation arrangement."

"I don't know what that means, but it kind of makes me want to punch Puck in his guts," Finn said miserably. "So, we aren't together, really, anymore? Right?"

His confusion and trepidation mixed with a definite sense of relief seemed to ease a guilt that had been within Rachel ever since she had kissed him in the school stairway before Regionals. She managed a small smile and murmured, "I think that if you really thought about it, we weren't really together, Finn. Not in the way you and Quinn are linked together-or Noah and I."

"Let's not talk about that. It still makes me kind of queasy," Finn admitted. "You can still be my friend, right? We just won't make out, right?"

"That's correct, yes," Rachel nodded. "I really like being friends, Finn."

"Cool," Finn nodded. He looked up at Rachel's eyes for a split second before staring back down at her ankle intently. He reached out a finger tip and Rachel's eyes crinkled in confusion as her lips turned upwards in a smile at the tickling feeling as his finger drew over her skin. "Don't tell Puck. I wrote my name there, just that little spot. Cause it seems like I sorta deserve a small part of you."

"Okay," Rachel said simply, all of her words flying from her head. She heard tree branches crackling and creaking from the woods behind them and furrowed a sober brow. "I hope they're okay."

* * *

"Damn Q! How the hell did you get up this high?" Puck demanded as he carefully scaled the tree to reach his baby mama.

"Daddy used to make me climb the trees when we were hunting for elk so that I could be his spotter," Quinn explained. "I got really good at climbing up…just not so good at climbing down."

"Liar," Puck said confidently. "Your ears get a little pink at the edges when you're lying. Why are you lying about climbing?"

"I just wanted to give Finn a minute to talk to Rachel without your overbearing ass in the way!" Quinn hissed back at him. "God, why can't you just let something slide for once? I was doing you a favor. I'm taking Finn back. You can have your slutty Jew-sex now. Eck…I just vomited in my mouth a little."

"Q!" Puck interrupted, knowing that she was going to go off into an insulting tangent on Rachel and/or _hotass_ slutty Jew-sex. He couldn't believe that she shut her mouth and looked at him with suspicious and guarded eyes. "So, you and I are done?"

"Yeah," Quinn said softly.

"We had a kid together. We're never gonna be done," Puck quickly refuted. "Can't we all just….ride this summer through and figure some of this shit out? I mean, no one has to make decisions about soul mates when we just escaped baptism and certain death. And especially when we're all still kind of high off the magic shrooms."

"I didn't eat the mushrooms," Quinn rolled her eyes, a soft smile pulling at her lips. "I hate them and only took them from Rachel because I felt bad I killed a bunny. I forgot she was all save the animals or whatever. And if you tell her or anyone this? I will get you drunk, lead you to a bedroom, get you naked and _feed_ you to the freshman Cheerios, and _then_? I'll let Rupaul watch it all go down. And then I'll comfort her. A lot."

"So hot," Puck groaned.

"You're an idiot," Quinn laughed. They remained quiet for a few seconds. "If I've learned anything by watching you and your merry band of idiots the last few years, it's that you're always at your most truthful when you're high. And the way you looked when you touched Rachel earlier…Puck, I really don't think you need a summer to figure things out. I think you've got it all figured out."

Silence fell over them once more as they sat watching the sunrise slowly break over the horizon. They heard Rachel and Finn softly singing by the fire, yet another Weezer tune.

"I AM THE GREATEST MAN THAT EVER LIVED!" Finn suddenly bellowed.

Quinn giggled and Puck looked at her with a raised brow, "You got everything figured out already, Q?"

"Getting there," Quinn shrugged. Her eyes narrowed as she looked into the distance. She pointed and said, "looks like a major road. Let's get the hell out of here."

*****Elsewhere*****

"Artie….Artie! Your phone is rapping…"

"Ignore it, this is getting good…"

"Get your hands off of those if you want to keep them and answer your phone. You are not sliding into third base while Slim Shady is rapping at me!"

Artie groaned as Tina hopped off of his lap and threw his offensive phone at his face. He didn't even bother looking at the caller id, as only one person had that specific ring tone.

"Mr. Schue? What on Earth could you be calling me for during the middle of summer? On a night when I'm alone with my first girlfriend ever and we're exploring just how enjoyable ice pops can be as semi-adults?" Artie asked, his words quick, his demeanor feeling very starched.

"Oh…I'm so sorry, Artie. I was just curious, have you or Tina heard from Rachel? She missed a meeting that she scheduled into my phone herself about pre-planning brainstorming sessions for audition pre-requisites. It seems very odd for her to miss…well, anything."

"That's a good question, Mr. Schue. And you haven't been the first to ask it this summer. Give me approximately two and a half hours to finish things up with Tina and we'll start assembling the Glee club for an impromptu meeting."

Artie hung up the phone with a pleased expression on his face and he indicated for Tina to climb back aboard the Good Ship Artie-pop. She looked unimpressed and grabbed his phone, dialing away as quickly as possible to organize the Glee club's first summer meeting. He nudged his chair a little violently into his desk and muttered,

"Rachel Berry is ruining my summer."

* * *

Has Puck finally gotten sick of his three vacation-mates and decided to feed them to the evil robbers? Did Quinn and Finn really do it in the woods? Do you think Finn will take it personally that she darted up a tree directly afterwards? And once they get out of those woods, what's in store for our intrepid quartet of mushroom gobbling singing teens? And what's in store for poor Artie, who is continually uhm, action-blocked by the rest of Glee club due to Rachel's disappearance? Will the damn Glee Club just unite already and go go power ranger on the bad people's butts? Do you forgive me for not wanting to look at this story for a while? Would it help if I posted tomorrow before the show again?

Note: Rachel's random lyric is from Weezer's "El Scorcho" (my second favorite song of the band's) and Finn's is "The Greatest Man Who Ever Lived" (My third favorite song of the band's) And I promise this ends the random Weezer pimping.

I'm thinking about signing up for a livejournal. I know, I'm kind of late to that party. It just seems that the Glee community is really strong there. And that way I could read more fic too. Which is excellent. I'll let you know when or if I have it up and running. Thanks for reading, as always!


	11. Chapter 11

Happy GLEE day everyone! It's a joyous and lovely day for all. And I managed to knock out another chapter.

I have a set outline now. WOOHOO! This should run to fifteen chapters now. That will keep be on track, certainly. And also the weekly doses of new Glee will help. I did sign up for a livejournal, user name cassprincess there too. I'm working my way to finding and figuring things out, and I'll get there eventually, I just want to get this story knocked out because I have two more ideas taking over my brain, outside the Sugar Cookie Universe.

I hope that you enjoy! And I hope you have the best Glee day ever.

**-Chapter Eleven-**

***August 2010***

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF ME YOU SHAMPOO-CHALLENGED RUFFIAN!"

Puck flinched as Rachel's very capably shouted insult echoed off the walls of the lowest basement of the Bellagio security vaults. This was not going to be easy.

"I WILL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT MY FATHER'S HAVE AN _INCREDIBLY_ EXPENSIVE LAWYER WHO SPECIALIZES IN HATE CRIMES ON SPEED DIAL AND ONCE SHE'S THROUGH WITH YOU THERE WO-"

Rachel's shrieking was cut off and replaced with a muffled squeak of pain and Finn and Quinn's own muffled shouts of protestation tweaked at Puck's ears. One more squeak of pain from Rachel and Puck's feet were in motion, rapidly walking towards the opened vault door. The three remaining hooligans were all occupied with the struggling Finn, Quinn and Rachel. His girl was giving them the most trouble, Rachel's able and strong legs thrashing about wildly as the ringleader tried to subdue her with brutish force. Her thrashing came to an abrupt stop however as very cold steel was pressed against her temple.

"If you don't make this easy for me, I'm not gonna make it easy for you, sweetie-pie," the criminal intoned gruffly.

"Hey asshole, get your hands off my girl," Puck coarsely ordered, bravado and cockiness easily overflowing from his unlimited reserve.

The teenaged quartet's adversaries seemed to scoff at the one boy in front of them, standing by the door, unarmed and looking about as harmless as a fluffy kitten as all three of the grown men now held guns to each of Puck's friends' temples. The ringleader scoffed and squeezed his arm around Rachel even harder, making her eyes go wide with panic as the handgun pressed more forcefully into her head. She took the briefest of moments to suppress the absolute ridiculous fear that was coursing through her veins, compartmentalizing it for later use in one of her inevitable damsel in distress roles, and gave Noah a laser like beam of confidence in her eyes.

"We're gonna give you a choice kid-"

"No, you're going to drop your weapons," Puck interrupted smoothly. He raised a self-assured eyebrow and commanded, "And you're going to let all of my friends go. And we're going to walk away and let you guys do whatever fool-ass thing you were doing. Got it?"

The criminals laughed in response to Puck's demands and Puck took one step forwards directly from the door, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small black remote control. He looked at it curiously and wondered, "Now, I'm not the smartest man in the world. But I'm a teenage boy, so it kind of stands to reason that my mind is sorta hard-wired for electronics. And this looks like a remote…like it turns something on. And I'm wondering if I _trashed_ this thing…now, how in the fucking fuck would you get that _something_ to turn on?"

"Look kid, hand it over, and we'll make a deal."

"Drop the guns," Puck shrugged. "See my friends know-I'm kind of really fucking excellent at breaking things. I mean, _really_."

Finn's eyes actually got a reminiscent quality about them and snorted right into the hand of his captor. Half of his mother's income from ages twelve to fourteen involved replacing things that Puck had completed destroyed in his house. Quinn rolled her eyes at Puck's declaration. He was certainly good at breaking her reputation into a million pieces. And the hearts of at least half of the Cheerios in the past four years. Rachel was the only one who looked confused. She had lived with her sewing-challenged and mechanically challenged gay dads all of her life. Noah had been the chief person who put things together and got them working in her house since she was ten. The only thing she remembered him breaking was his ankle once.

"Okay kid, I'm going to let your friends talk, because they're going to convince you to give me that remote."

The henchmen slowly removed their hands from the mouths of the teens and Rachel managed to hiss a five syllable insult immediately.

"Now, come on Scooby-gang, give it your best shot. Your little lone ranger over there gives me the remote, and then he can decide who he gets to watch get snuffed _first_."

Puck rolled his eyes and shrugged, "Finn, no problem."

Finn let out a slightly annoyed and disappointed moan.

"Sorry dude," Puck smirked slightly at his best friend.

Finn sighed and took a deep breath before admitting resignedly, "I get it man. Ho's before bro's with you."

"OH _hell_ no!" Quinn bitchily spat out, her time spent with Mercedes never more evident than at that moment. She glared at Finn with her best icy look and said in a dangerously soft and velvety tone. "You did _not_ just call me a HO."

"FINN, really!" Rachel scolded expertly. She wrinkled her nose in distaste and continued in an obnoxiously bossy manner, "That is disgusting terminology and I insist that you take it back immediately."

"You let Puck talk that way!" Finn guffawed unattractively.

"Noah's filthy mouth is something that I've gotten used to," Rachel dismissed airily. She threw a condescending smile Puck's way and explained, "He can't help himself. You should know better!"

"Yeah, and the fact that my filthy mouth makes her wet her panties," Puck acknowledged, taking a small moment to appreciate the way Rachel's cheeks turned a dusty rose color in confirmation. He raised another very distinct brow as he directed his comment very steadily at a disgusted Finn. "And then they just drop. Right to the ground."

"You two are filthy Jew whore sluts," Quinn rolled her eyes painfully, a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth as she caught on and knew Rachel had as well. She looked to Finn and said pointedly. "I wish I could go _back down_ to Jesus camp to get away from it all."

"Please, Quinn. Like you and Finn aren't using every opportunity to _fall to the floor_ and _roll around on the ground_ on a regularly scheduled basis," Rachel offered helpfully. All three of them were staring at Finn anxiously as the criminals watched their banter like it was the world's most annoying tennis match. A tiny look of comprehension passed through Finn's eyes and Puck smirked, which only seemed to anger the head honco.

"EVERYONE SHUT UP!" he roared.

"Dude?" Puck leveled a glare the criminal's way. A glare that he had used to decimate others on the high school food chain, including teachers, on a regular basis. His hazel eyes darkened to almost brown as violence and discord freely ran through his veins as he held the remote up obnoxiously. "_Fuck. Your. Mother_."

One button was pressed and the large vault door directly behind the criminal's backs exploded in a spectacular fashion, fire, concrete and warped metal hurtling in every direction.

*****July 2010*****

"_The internet is for porn!"_

"SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!"

"_The internet is for porn"_

"All three of you are going to _rot_ in hell and I will laugh at you from heaven!"

"_Grab your dick and double click for PORN PORN PORN!"_

"RACHEL BARBARA BERRY!" Quinn shouted obnoxiously. "I cannot _believe_ you and if I hadn't just spent a year growing as a person, I would seriously use this as very potent ammunition when we get back to school. I cannot believe that you said_ that_."

"It's a song…I thought you were doing the part of Kate Monster, which I think that _maybe _you could pull off, at least certainly the emotionally charged, softer lyrics. I think that your tone would be completely wrong for the belting numbers," Rachel rambled thoughtfully, trying very hard to keep any sort of condescension out of her constructive criticism.

"Like the puppet stripping song?" Puck wondered. "I love when you sing that song, Berry-pants."

"You love when she sings _any_ song, you girlfriend stealer," Finn mumbled obnoxiously.

"Shut it, Finn," Quinn ordered harshly. "I don't know what kind of depraved show you guys were watching but can we sing a song not about internet porn? Like…I like _The Music Man_?"

"Your voice is ideal for Marian Paroo!" Rachel squealed. Her mind instantly began calculating and her words fell from her mouth at an uncontrollable rate, "I played the part of both Amaryllis when I was eleven and Zaneeta when I was thirteen…"

"You got to dance the Shipoopi!" Quinn genuinely smiled at Rachel.

"Don't get all excited, it was at our Jew-camp show," Puck rolled his eyes.

"Noah!" Rachel said sharply.

"**The Temple Beth Israel-Shaare Zedek End of Summer **_**Extravaganza**_," Puck said flatly. He threw an amused smirk Finn's way as the girls began skipping ahead of them towards the road, singing with a surprising amount of joy considering their current situations. He saw Finn's total confusion and offered, "I think they'll get along better now…getting high in the woods together seems to have made things clearer."

"No…it's not that, what's a Shipoopi? Is that like-a girl taking a poo?" Finn whispered.

Puck roared with laughter, a feeling filtering through him that he hadn't been able to attain in a very long time. They continued to walk towards civilization and Rachel and Quinn had moved on from _The Music Man_ only to land squarely on _Little Shop of Horrors_. He had to protest as they reached the road trying to make Rachel understand that he would be the evil Dentist, not the nerd cause no way was he going to pass up the opportunity to suck down some whippits.

"But _Noah_," Rachel whined. "You have to understand that part of acting is playing against your type. The amount of sensationalism that you playing the adorkably sensitive-"

"Adorkably," Finn repeated. "That's a fun word."

Quinn looked at him curiously and rolled her eyes, "Did you eat one of Rachel's mushrooms, Finn?"

…

…

…

"Dude, that's my stash! Now we're going to have to go back and get more!" Puck glared at his slightly high friend.

"I was super hungry…oh look, there's stuff down there!" Finn applauded enthusiastically, and sure enough, half a mile down the hill sat a gas station and a very backwoods used car dealership. He looked to Puck questioningly and said, "You got a plan, dude?"

Puck smirked. "Always."

* * *

Did Puck just blow up Fuickleberry? Will Finn ever figure out what Shipoopi is? Will _anyone_? And is anyone surprised that Puck totally gathered some of those mushrooms before they set off so that he would have a free stash for the year? And is anyone surprised that Finn ate them for a snack? And how do you think the Glee meeting is going to end up back in Lima? And is Matt still pantsed in front of a crowd full of people? If so, that's awesome.

All of these questions and more will be answered soon in the next installment of Fuickleberry Saves the World: The Dramatic and Badass Rescue of Mike Chang and Matt Rutherford!


	12. Chapter 12

Happy Glee Day, everyone! Let's celebrate with some completely nonsensical and ridiculous Fuickleberry! I was such a good girl tonight and completely did not go to the Puck/Rachel drabble meme first. Tomorrow I'll definitely indulge though. Here's the latest chapter of...

**Fuickleberry Saves the World: The Dramatic and Badass Rescue of Mike Chang and Matt Rutherford!**

**Chapter Twelve**

*****July 2010*****

"All right. The girls are good. You know what to do ?"

"F. Hud. Elmer Fudd. Monkey dud."

Puck rolled his eyes so hard he _swore_ they were going to come out of their sockets. He leveled a glare of death at the boy he had considered his best dude since the age of eleven. He gripped Finn's shoulder as hard as he could and jerked the lanky boy's body back and forth.

"Woah…roller coaster. Soil Toaster. Monkey…uh…dud."

"There are times when I think you should totally be in the special school. Right now? I think you'd flunk out of the special school," Puck hissed. "Go into the store, take this list, and smile."

"Got it. Snot lit. Monkey -"

"Dud," Puck supplied helpfully.

"Monkey dud," Finn nodded. He looked at the list curiously and then back to Puck before wondering, "I have like-no money."

"Just smile," Puck promised. He pushed Finn in the direction of the store and turned on his heel, rushing towards the side of the road, hiding carefully and waiting. He watched as Finn meandered his way into the store, still stoned out of his mind. Plus he was Finn. Puck was absolutely certain that the kid would forget what had been going down since they left Lima as soon as he saw the cereal section of the little store. He was certain that Finn would be on a serious mission to find the Trix Bunny for at least ten minutes before someone thought he was an escapee from the local mental institution.

It just might work out. He looked to the car dealership and saw Rachel and Quinn walking out of the small office, hand in hand. They were throwing simpering, fluttering looks as the young car salesman in his mid-twenties fumbled with far too many keys. Yeah. This was going to work. He smirked and muttered to himself,

"Show time."

***Lima***

"Uhm, Artie? Tina?"

"We know, Mr. Schue," Tina sighed dramatically. "Or at least, _**I**_know. Mr. Latina Lover over there might be too busy going through Santana's terrible and slutty text messages to be too worried about this."

"Girl, I told you stop trippin'," Artie shrugged his shoulders in a quick, short burst of irritation.

"Mr. Schue? Can you please tell Artie that if he doesn't stop calling me _girl_, I'm going to remove all of the screws from his chair," Tina hissed lowly, her eyes into slits as she glared at her boyfriend.

"Uhm-" Mr. Schue hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

"And also, let him know that he is **white**. No amount of hardship can make it okay for him to talk like he just stepped off the set of The Barbershop," Tina mocked her boyfriend ruthlessly. "As a fierce Asian woman, I have _way_ more street cred than he does."

"Girl, _please_," Artie muttered. His eyes widened as Tina rose from the chair she had been sulking in for hours with a stealth that made her seriously think she did descend from Bruce Lee, no matter how racist that sounded. He squeaked in anticipation and said, "Baby girl, I thought you dug the swagger…"

"I'm going to give you swagger you man-whore!" Tina scoffed at him as Schue reluctantly placed himself between them less Tina finish the job the car accident had started on Artie.

"Guys, GUYS!" Schue screamed. "What is going on with you two? When we left out of school, everything was fine!"

"Well then ten members of the Glee club disappeared into thin air, and I've been stuck with his misogynistic and racist ass. Which is usually fine, cause I love him like that, but Santana has been calling EVERY three hours!" Tina screeched. "I'm so sick of Shakira that I really think I'm going to shove Artie's cell phone somewhere he CAN'T FEEL IT!"

"Uhm…is Shakira a nickname for Santana?" Schue wondered reluctantly. He had the distinct feeling that not only was this whole interaction inappropriate, but also completely not something he would want to get involved with if it were his adult friends.

"No, it's her ringtone. Do you have any idea, Mr. Schue, just how completely humiliating it is to know that your boyfriend has Santana Lopez's digits? And has _Hips Don't Lie_ as her ring tone? And can you imaging hearing that ringtone every three hours since the second day of our summer break?" Tina demanded irately. "I'm going to kill him!"

There was one moment of silence before the pit of hell opened up beneath all three of them and suddenly the sound that Tina most definitely didn't want to hear at that very moment cut through the air.

_You know my hips don't lie, And I'm starting to feel it's right_

_All the attraction, the tension - don't you see baby this is perfection_.

***Not Lima***

"Uhm hello? Why did the phone have to ring three times before you answered?" Santana screeched into the phone. "I thought I told you, Wheelie, that if I wasn't the most important person to ever be put into your cellie, that I would tell Tina _everything_."

"Santana! This is Mr. Schue!"

Santana blew out an exasperated breath and looked around the hotel room that she, Brittany, Matt and Mike had settled into less than an hour ago. She squinted and listened to the background ruckus on Schue's end and smirked when she heard Artie shriek in terror and pain as Tina cursed him out in Chinese.

"Can you tell the dragon lady to lay off of Artie for a second? We have some important things to talk about," Santana demanded, trying in vain to not sound completely irate in her request. "Put me on speakerphone, Mr. Schue…"

Santana did the same with her cell phone and waited a second before screaming, "LOSERS! Pay attention. You idiots are _useless_, I mean seriously. I never thought I'd meet three people who are like, the very definition of **mercy flush** before-"

"SANTANA!" Schue said reproachfully. "That's hardly an appropriate way to talk to your friends. Or me. I think I need to remind you that I'm your teacher."

"It's summer, Schue. Relax," Santana rolled her eyes. "Have you guys found Rachel yet?"

"Found Rachel?" Mike questioned. "Where could Rachel be?"

"We don't know, that's kind of the point," Brittany looked at Mike curiously, wondering how he could be thinking so densely. "They were supposed to follow us when we kidnapped you. But they didn't. And now no one knows where they are. I think they probably went to the Crayola factory."

"Crayola factory?" Schue questioned, mistakenly taking Brittany's theories as fact. "Why would they go there, Brittany?"

"It's the happiest and most colorful place on Earth, Mr. Schue. It's where the rainbow lives," Brittany explained, the hint of condescension in her voice. "That's where I would be if Santana hadn't made summer plans."

"What are your summer plans, Whore-pez, you know, besides making my summer freaking miserable?" Tina grumbled.

"Woah there Margaret Cho, ease up," Santana hissed. "Just because your boy has a thing for THIS bossy mug of hotness, doesn't mean you can get your bitch on to get him to keep paying attention to you."

"Santana, you really aren't making things better," Artie squeaked, looking at Tina in extreme fear and anxiety.

"Hold on, so-Rachel and the others were supposed to follow us?" Matt questioned, clearly in the dark with Mike on the situation involving their friends. "So why weren't they laughing and pointing at me when you pantsed me in front of Lucas Oil Stadium?"

"Lucas Oil Stadium…where you guys visiting Peyton Manning?" Tina furrowed her brow.

"So hot that you know where Peyton plays babygirl," Artie whispered.

"Shut your face, Artie!" Tina screamed.

"We were auditioning for So You Think You Can Dance," Matt quickly explained, not really wanting to go into the fact that Santana had made him beat box with his pants around his ankles in front of the huge crowd that had lined up to audition.

"Did you make it?" Schue wondered, his voice slightly terrified. If he lost the four of them to a reality show and Puck, Rachel, Finn and Quinn to …wherever they were, he was seriously screwed for Glee club.

"Nope, Brit-brit got really far though," Santana said proudly.

"They said I needed to work on my interview skills before I can be on tv. I think they need to work on doing better interviews," Brittany pouted.

"Whatever, we're going staying here for the night and then we're driving to the Dallas for the next round of auditions. We're going to get on that damned show. And Rachel and the rest of them were supposed to come with us because we were _supposed_ to split time between the dance auditions and American Idol auditions…"Santana explained. "Now that's shot to hell, and I'm seriously going to wring Rupaul's neck!"

"Do you guys really think you should be auditioning for-"

"Save it, teach," Santana said lowly. "This was supposed to be my fun summer. Now its ruined. What are the three of you losers going to do to get my fun summer back?"

***West Virginia***

"I quite enjoy the way I feel when I press my foot upon the acceleration. I feel…_powerful_."

Rachel bit her lip and looked at the car salesman through her eyelashes. The man squirmed in the passenger sheet as a blush spread across his cheeks as Rachel's small hands stroked the steering wheel in a flirty way. She bit her lip and let a small moan rumble in her throat when Quinn's hand reached from the backseat and pressed against her shoulder.

"Sister, we shouldn't covet this life…we're destined to return to the farm," Quinn practically breathed her hand caressing Rachel's shoulder.

Both girls knew that Puck was a genius at that very moment. He had come up with a million contingencies for this little plan. Their awkward and inappropriate clothing was easily explained away with their cover. Two Amish sisters on their rumspringa away from their community, wanting to try out the car Rachel was currently easing down the back country road. Rachel had inwardly cringed that Puck's plans always involved she and Quinn touching and caressing each other, but in this case it had worked. The car salesman was completely oblivious as he stared between the scantily clad girls with a look akin to someone who had just hit the jackpot.

"Tell me what it feels like, sister," Quinn whispered, her voice a delirious combination of innocent and scandalous. She scooted forward and pressed her lips to Rachel's ear and whispered, "Tell me…"

"Oh dear sweet Jesus," the man whispered as Rachel put her foot on the brake gently. They were at a full stop and without warning, the passenger side door jerked open and the car salesman was being pulled from the car forcefully.

"This is a carjack!" Puck bellowed, throwing the guy to the side of the road, his concealed 'gun' pointing towards Rachel. "DRIVE!"

"Lord help us!" Quinn called out dramatically as Rachel pealed away from the car salesman. She hurtled down the road at breakneck speed, all of Puck's careful driving lessons from their previous summer together coming in handy on the backroads.

"Berry-pants, stop! There's our boy!" Puck hollered. "Quinn, get him in the car!"

Quinn opened one of the back doors and yelled, "Finn! Come on, we have to get out of here!"

"Huh? I just got a lot of free stuff from this nice lady back there. And then she read my note and pointed me back towards my house. Do I live here?" Finn wondered, his tone spaced out and oblivious. He grinned at Quinn and said, "You're pretty. Monkey dud."

"Get in the car, FINN!" Quinn screeched at him.

"You're being mean!" Finn accused.

"Get in the car, Finn and you can touch my boobs!" Quinn promised.

He dove in head first, hands reaching out anxiously. Quinn managed to maneuver around his body and slammed the door shut. "DRIVE!"

Rachel sped away anxiously, going at least ten miles in the span of three minutes as they silently made their get-away. Quinn grabbed the bag that Finn had obtained from the gas station and pulled out the phone charger. She tossed it to Puck, who pulled out the phone he had been using as his concealed weapon and he plugged it into the car adapter. They all held their breath as the phone booted up, waiting for the signal that would tell them where their friends were.

"Berry-pants, you won't believe this," Puck whispered.

"Are the police following us?" Rachel panicked, accelerating even more.

"No, no. Not yet. We're good," Quinn promised.

"The signal, it's in Hershey, Pennsylvania," Puck chuckled, remembering their overnight stay in the Chocolate Capitol of America a few summers ago. "I'm totally going to kick your ass at bumper cars, Finn."

"Monkey dud."

* * *

Did I forget to tell y'all that the format would be changing up? Did I totally leave the last flash forward Fuickleberry blowing up? Woops. So, can I ever write Finn again when he is NOT high? Who would want that? Can I write Santana being an assbitch to Schue ALL. THE. TIME.? Don't you love Jackie Chang's Abs? Are you sad that Tina is busy bitching at Artie about Satan-a instead of falling for his abs at Jewcamp, I mean Asian Camp? ;) Can you believe that Puck carjacked the car salesman? And if Santana, Brittany, Mike and Matt are in Indianapolis, who in the heck are Fuickleberry following to Hershey?

All of these questions will be answered in the next installment of Fuickleberry Saves the World, coming sometime this week! Love and Glee people. Love and Glee.


	13. Chapter 13

Early! Happy Day before Glee-preemption y'all. You know what Glee preemption means? Me probably writing tomorrow. We'll see if we can get one closer to the end of Fuickleberry and one step closer to the next story, a different universe. Much different. (Still cracktastic though, I'm sure). Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

*****July 2010*****

"Quinn, you look so tired. I promise that I'm sober now, so you can totally trust me to drive the rest of the way. I haven't eaten any mushrooms in at least nine hours. You deserve a little nap…"

"I'm not letting you drive," Quinn said resolutely, blinking rapidly in an attempt to banish any tiredness that was lingering in her eyes. She, Rachel and Puck had each taken a three hour driving shift through the night, and they were less than ten miles away from Hershey, Pennsylvania. She threw a glare Finn's way and insisted, "We're almost there, you don't get a driving shift."

"But I'm sobered up, I haven't said the words Monkey Dud in at least twenty minutes," Finn countered.

"I'm not worried about your sobriety, I'm worried about your driving skills," Quinn explained with as much patience as she could muster. "You broke a mailman's hip on your first driving lesson."

"He came out of nowhere!" Finn shrugged.

"He was three days away from retirement! I hardly think that poor 67 year-old mailman was running a speedy hundred meter dash at the time," Quinn laughed. "And what happened your first three driving tests?"

"I failed the parallel parking test," Finn said quietly. He saw Quinn raise an eyebrow and he sighed, "And completely demolished eighteen orange cones."

"And what happened the next three driving tests?" Quinn goaded with a genuine smile.

"Ran through all the stop signs, turned down a one way street, and then I almost hit another mailman," Finn listed with a dramatic eye roll. "But I did wind up getting my license eventually."

"Only because the driver's license guy was sick of seeing your face and filing insurance claims. He made your mom promise that you would never drive during high pedestrian traffic times!" Quinn giggled. "Check the GPS, let me know when I should turn."

Finn reached for the phone that was in the center console, stealing a look back at a peacefully slumbering Puck and Rachel. He cringed seeing the way they were _completely_ wrapped up in each other, Puck's lips actually pressed to Rachel's forehead as they slept. Quinn caught his movements and she softly whispered,

"They're telling the truth, you know. They really do have a history and care about each other. A history from before the both of us," Quinn sighed again. "They weren't doing anything sneaky behind either of our backs."

"Yeah, it's just too weird," Finn admitted. "It's going to take some getting used to. I mean, I spent the last year like, really scared that you and Puck were going to be together forever. Its freaky to think that I don't have to worry because he's totally like, Rachel's soul partner or whatever."

"You were scared about me and Puck?" Quinn wondered.

"Yeah, turn right here," Finn pointed out his directions. He smiled softly at Quinn and said, "You guys went through something huge last year, and I just thought that it would mean you'd always be together and I wouldn't ever have the chance to even look at you again…or…"

"Fool around in the forest with me again?" Quinn finished with a soft smile. "We're going to do this really slow, Finn. Because you and I have a lot of crazy emotions tied to both of us. But I would have been really sad if you know, I wouldn't have had the chance to look at you again, or fool around in a forest."

"Cool," Finn beamed back at her. He looked around and laughed, "The street lamps are Hershey's Kisses! That's so cool! Guys, wake up, we're totally here!"

Puck and Rachel groggily mumbled from the backseat, until Finn was smacking Puck's head with the bag that had been filled with their dirty clothes they had ditched and replaced at an all night Wal-mart just outside of Pennsylvania at two in the morning. Puck gripped the plastic bag and wrestled it from Finn's hand, before tossing it at the taller boy's head violently.

"Asshole," Finn mumbled miserably. His bad mood evaporated however when he heard the pleasant screaming of excited passengers on a nearby roller coaster. "COASTERS! Let's go!"

"You're like an overly excited puppy, Finn," Rachel mumbled, wiping sleep from her eyes as she tried to disentangle herself from Noah in the backseat, unsurprised that they boy wanted to keep a close hold.

"Don't wet yourself, ," Puck smirked. He finally relented to Rachel's pushing against him and allowed her to straighten herself out as all four teens excited the stolen car. He nodded towards the phone in Finn's hand and asked, "Where are we going?"

"_**Rachel?**_

The quartet turned to the stunned declaration of Rachel's name and each of their jaws dropped at what stood in front of them. Puck began laughing maniacally, his laughter quickly infecting a stunned Finn. Even Quinn was laughing eventually, but Rachel managed to just stare, her eyebrows knitted together in definite annoyance at what stood before her, half dressed in a ridiculously large bear costume.

Jesse St. James squirmed slightly as he clutched onto the head of his bear costume, flicking his eyes in annoyance to Rachel's traveling companions. Puck was actually on the ground at this point, clutching his sides with uncontrollable laughter.

"What are you doing here, Jesse?" Rachel demanded. "Why are you dressed like that? I thought you were in California! And…why are you dressed like a giant cartoon bear?"

"Giant-cartoon-bear!" Puck roared with laughter, slapping at Finn's knees with each word. "I'm gonna die. I'm legit gonna die of laughing. It's too awesome."

"Ask the delinquent rolling on the ground about California. I'm sure that he can explain," Jesse said coldly before putting the bear head over his own and walking off in what could have been a dramatic huff, had he not been waddling severely in his costume.

Rachel turned to Noah curiously and even through his absolutely ridiculous spouts of roaring laughter, she could tell he hadn't done anything to Jesse. He would have been far more prideful than amused. She looked to Finn who was also laughing and pointing at Jesse's waddling behind as he drifted off towards the theme park. She shrugged and looked to Quinn in hopes of finding someone to agree with her on the fact that they had stepped into the Twilight Zone.

"Oh! You?" she gasped, taking one look at the malicious smirk Quinn had on her face as she stared after Jesse. The former head cheerleader had a calm, cool calculation in her eyes, and a fair bit of pride. "Quinn, what on Earth did you do?"

"It wasn't only me," Quinn admitted. She shrugged at Rachel and said, "Santana, Brittany and I…we may have made Jesse lose his scholarship. No one messes with our team. And get that ridiculously sappy look out of your eyes. Yeah, he egged you and broke your heart, but he also was a spy for Vocal Adrenaline, insulted Santana's pitch, said that my tone was horrible and _actually_ made Brittany cry once because he said she was turning to early on a dance step. We NEVER criticize Brittany. Even Coach Sylvester can't stand to see that girl cry."

"Well…thank you. But, however did you manage it?" Rachel wondered.

"Santana wrote out a script and had me call some of my Dad's friends who were alumni at his school, and then we sent them the surveillance tape from the parking lot on the day you were egged," Quinn shrugged. "We didn't lie too much. Just good enough to get him to lose his scholarship."

"Q, you're the best head bitch in the world," Puck declared, finally crawling from the ground. He grabbed the phone from Finn's hand and scrutinized it. He pointed to the east side of the amusement park, right next to what looked like the world's largest log flume ride and declared, "Our boys be that way."

_*** * *Lima* * ***_

"Hello Mrs. Puckerman! We were hoping to-"

"Not interested."

Mr. Schuester, Artie and Tina were absolutely stunned that Alison Puckerman had taken one look at them and slammed her front door in their faces. Mr. Schuester threw a sheepish look at his students before swallowing deeply and plucking up his courage in order to knock again. Two minutes later, Puck's mother swung the door open angrily and glared at the three people at the door with a look that was eerily reminiscent of the look Puck would give right before throwing a kid in the dumpster. Angry and slightly delighted at the same time.

"Look you three little Jehovah's Witness rejects, this is a house chock full of Jews, I'm not interested in your pamphlets, I'm not interested in your inspirational group prayer, and I'm REALLY not interested in your favorite guy, Jesus. Please leave and try cramming your religion down someone else's throat because my people weren't buying it 2000 years ago, and guess what? We ain't buying it now!"

"Uhm…Mrs. Puckerman, I'm Will Schuester!" Will called out as Alison slammed the door again. He called out hopefully and said, "I'm Puck's-Noah's choir teacher!"

Another few minutes passed before the door creaked open and Alison's hazel eyes peered through the crack of the door. She squinted at the teacher and said, "Noah's not here."

"We know-we were wondering if you knew where they might be?" Will wondered. "You see, we were hoping to have a meeting and Noah is missing, along with Rachel, Finn and Quinn."

"Yeah, they're all on a trip together. Satan-a had it all planned out. Go and talk to her. Now if you'll excuse me-"

"Mrs. Puckerman, I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation, four of my club members have gone missing and none of us can get in touch with them. Have you spoken to your son this summer at all?" Will wondered, not too delicately, which only seemed to set the volatile woman in front of him off more.

"Oh don't worry, Mr. Will Schuester, I'm absolutely sure that you'll get Noah and Rachel back, even if you don't deserve them," Alison scoffed. "Noah told me every single time you trampled all over his poor Rachel throughout the year. And I was there at every performance, I saw the lack of solos my very talented Noah received…"

"Mrs. Puckerman," Will sheepishly attempted to interrupt.

"Enough, Noah is fine. Rachel is fine. They're probably having a very relaxing summer so far, being away from your club, getting ready to recharge for another fun filled year of getting trampled on and ignored at solo time. Good bye, Mr. Schuester, I'm working a double tonight and need to get a little rest," Alison insisted, slamming the door once again in Will's face.

"That went well," Artie deadpanned as Tina rolled her eyes. "Maybe we should track the Berry's down on their cruise instead."

* * *Hershey, PA* * *

"I don't see them…I don't see them anywhere. Noah, what if, what if something happened to them?" Rachel whispered desperately, clutching Puck's hand as they came to a stop in the middle of the parking lot, having tracked Rachel's cell phone signal directly to that spot.

"Black truck," Quinn pointed, winded after their sprint through the Hershey Parking lot. She bent over and took deep even breaths as Rachel reassuringly rubbed her back as the boys cautiously stepped towards the truck. She smiled ruefully at the girl whose life she had made miserable less than a year ago and said, "I seriously need to work on getting back in shape before school starts."

"I have a regimented plan that I would be more than happy to share with you," Rachel smiled. She gripped Quinn's hands as they watched their boys inspect the darkened windows of the Black Cadillac Escalade that hopefully still contained their very alive friends. "Be careful, Noah."

Puck smiled back at his girls and said, "We got this Berry-pants, Q…you guys stay over there."

"Ohhhh, manly men," Quinn rolled her eyes, still watching with interest as Finn held a large rock in his hands, gauging its effectiveness.

The girls winced as the rock met the glass of the driver's side window, smashed glass flying everywhere. Puck thrust his hand into the hole Finn made and unlocked the doors, jerking it open and looking inside for his friends. His whole body slumped in defeat at the empty car. He turned to Finn and muttered, "They've got to be around here somewhere. We didn't go through all of this for nothing."

"WHITE BOY! WHAT IN THE HELL ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT ROCK?"

Rachel and Quinn spun around in shock at the very familiar shouting, each feeling both trepidation and a strange sense of calm at the friendly, yet pissed off face in front of them. Mercedes Jones glared at them and was soon followed by her family…and then…

"FINN? What did you to do Burt's car?" Carole Hudson demanded as she stood next to Burt Hummel, who was standing next to his astonished son.

"Mom? I thought you said you were camping…this isn't camping," Finn declared. "This is the sweetest place on Earth. You left me in Lima to watch while you went all Willy Wonka with Kurt and his dad and Mercedes' family?"

Her silence was all the answer he needed. Puck would swear on a stack of Rachel Berry's panties (one of the few things he held holy), that Finn _must_still be high, because he turned very slowly and pitched the rock straight through the front window of Burt Hummel's Escalade.

* * *

So, Jesse St. James' future has been ruined because he insulted Brittany's dancing ability. I'd hate to see what Santana is going to do with the So You Think You Can Dance people if Brittany never makes it. And is Finn really not high anymore? Cause if so, that's totes depressing. How Badass is Mama P? LOVE HER. Is anyone surprised that she'd be miffed about how Schue treated her poor future Daughter-in-law? And seriously, they've been following Mercy, Kurt and their assorted fams all summer so far? Idiots. And if Burt kicked Finn out for using the F-word, what's gonna happen now that he busted the windows out of the car, again? Will he sign the song with the rest of Fuickleberry dancing backup in tiny bikinis in a dream sequence?

All of these questions and more will be answered in the next installment of Fuickleberry Saves the World! And now that I've updated, can I please go out and play with the puckrachel drabble meme? Pretty please?


	14. Chapter 14

Here we are. Rolling right along. I think two or three more chapters? I don't want to rush it and it'll be longer than I had anticipated anyway. I have so many good ideas coming up for other universes. Woohoo! Thanks for stopping by and reading!

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

*****Hershey, Pennsylvania*****

"What the hell is it with you Glee kids breaking the windows of my car? I mean, I'm pretty sure I've never been anything but nice and accommodating, I don't complain at the marathon costume making taking up space in my kitchen…seriously, how many times does a man have to hear Single Ladies from my basement before you can count on a little respect? And count on not getting your window smashed in."

"Burt-" Finn managed to cut in, only to stutter an unintelligible string of syllables after the livid look his mother's boyfriend threw at him.

"Mr. Hummel," Puck supplied. "There's a logical explanation to this…"

Quinn and Rachel watched from the sidelines curiously as Finn tried desperately to keep his stammering to a minimum. Quinn squeezed Rachel's hand and said, "He's trying to not talk so he doesn't have to lie. He's terrible at it."

"Noah is trying to keep him from talking too," Rachel nodded. She smiled at the boys as Finn held up his hands in a mea culpa gesture and managed to stammer out one solitary _No Sir_ before Puck took the lead again and begin spinning an intricate web of lies that had Finn confused, aka _normal_ in no time. "Noah always talks with his hands when he's trying to talk his way out of something particularly terrible. One summer, we shaved the hair off of all the neighborhood dogs…it was my fault. I was eleven and thought it was animal cruelty for them to be so hot with heavy fur coats on. Noah just went along with it for the mayhem, I would assume. He waved his hands around so much in explaining it to our parents that he knocked his Great Grandpa Murray's ashes into the aquarium."

Quinn giggled as quietly as she could, definitely not wanting to garner any attention from the still fuming, although slowly calming Burt Hummel. The blonde nearly jumped out of her skin when Mercedes Jones literally appeared in front of them out of thin air. Quinn dropped Rachel's hand immediately, but it was already too late and Mercedes was staring at the both of them were steak gossip and she was _seriously_ starving.

"What in the hell, Q? Since when are you all up in Rachel's snack pack?" Mercedes demanded, unable to keep the jealousy out of her words. She crossed her arms protectively in front of her and raised a curious brow. "Spill it, girl."

"We've just been through a particularly traumatizing few days, Mercedes. I assure you that Quinn and I are no closer to being friends than we were at the beginning of our sophomore year," Rachel said smoothly. "You would understand if we had the time or the energy to explain it to you, but suffice it to say, that when you're thrown into a world of danger, kidnappings, desperation, additional kidnappings, panicked escapes, unintentional druggings and simulated car-jackings…well, it simply stands to reason that friendship doesn't matter. Having another person standing next to you is simply a comfort. Not a life-long sisterhood."

"Uhm," Mercedes furrowed her brow in confusion, not quite following the seventy-bajillion words that fell from Rachel's mouth in less than fifteen seconds.

Quinn couldn't help but stare at Rachel with definite curiosity and one small shade of understanding. She now knew _exactly_ how Rachel and Puck managed to keep a life-long friendship hidden away from prying eyes. Rachel was one serious whack-a-doodle. The blond bit her lip and was about to speak, when Rachel's never-ending word vomit interrupted again.

"Mercedes, please believe me when I tell you that this is not the time for your silly hidden romance charade you insist on perpetuating with Matthew Rutherford. We need to know if you've heard from them…or if you are in any way able to get in touch with them," Rachel asked directly.

"Matthew…what?" Mercedes scoffed in disbelief. Her acting skills were subpar at best, and she found that both Rachel and Quinn looked at her in bored exasperation. "Seriously why would I have Rutherford's digits? That's crazy talk."

"Oh please," Quinn rolled her eyes. "Then I never overheard you giggling and cooing on your phone at night with your Mocha-bear…"

"And my overactive imagination must have been in serious overdrive when I walked in on two entangled bodies in the choir room," Rachel sarcastically muttered.

"What are we talking 'bout?" Finn wondered, lumbering over to the girls with Puck and Kurt in tow. He grinned as he wrapped an arm around Quinn's shoulders and said, "Puck made everything okay. Burt and Carol are going to get us tickets to go and ride the coasters."

"We're talking about how Cadi-I'm sorry, _Mercedes_ is most certainly not in a relationship with Matthew," Rachel explained.

"Psshhhh, yeah, then I never heard him high as shit last winter talking about how nothing compared to grabbing a handful of your booty," Puck smirked. "And also, if you guys aren't secretly dating, then I should have never gotten a Melvin wedgie for dating you for three and half days."

"Seriously, Mercy, just give up the goods. _Everyone_ knows," Kurt insisted in a bored tone, checking his nails nonchalantly. His eyes darted up every so often to check on the newly arrived quartet, taking stock and definite notes on how they seemed to be coupled up.

"I don't know where Matt is," Mercedes grumbled. "Mom and Dad took my cellie away, remember? We've been on the road all summer. Why do you need to talk to him so badly anyway?"

"They were kidnapped," Finn blurted.

"We thought we were chasing them…we were chasing you instead," Quinn explained further.

"OH!" Rachel gasped with sudden excitement, turning to Puck and grabbing his hands as she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. "OH! NOAH!"

"Uhm, kinky?" Kurt murmured to Mercedes as the girl rolled her eyes.

"My cell phone! We need to retrieve it from Kurt's father's car…I have _everyone_'_s_ number on it!"

Puck grinned in relief, finally they were getting somewhere. He gripped his hands around Rachel's waist and suddenly had her hoisted up so that she sat on his shoulders precariously as he jogged back towards the Hummel's violated car. Rachel yanked her phone from the top of the vehicle and began dialing immediately.

"MICHAEL!" She screeched. "Where on Earth are-"

Puck closed his eyes in annoyance as she ended her no doubt very long diatribe and let out a shriek of frustration. He placed her on the ground and smiled, "Battery dead?"

"Yes," Rachel said shortly, staring down at the completely dead phone in annoyance.

"But he answered!" Quinn exclaimed. "That has to be a good sign. Maybe the escaped…"

"Maybe their kidnappers are super awesome?" Finn suggested.

"Either way, we need a charge on this," Puck took Rachel's cell phone and began to head back to where their illegally obtained car was.

"Cool, can we ride the coasters till its charged?" Finn wondered, his gaze staring at the amusement park wonders behind the gate with obvious longing.

"Actually…I have a better idea," Mercedes said suddenly. She smiled at the foursome's curious looks and shrugged, "It's a _really_ good idea, you guys."

*****On The Road*****

"Rach? HELLO? Rachel?"

"YOU IDIOT!" Santana screeched, ripping the phone from Mike's hands as Matt tried to keep a steady hand on the wheel as the girl sitting next to him pummeled Mike with balled up fists. "Why did you hang up on her? What in the hell is going on?"

"I didn't do it!" Mike insisted.

"He really didn't," Brittany insisted, trying to fend off Santana's attack on Mike. "It's not his fault that the cell phone towers ran out of pixie dust, San."

"You seriously think that stuff runs off of pixie dust?" Matt questioned.

"Don't get offended, Matt, but sometimes you're kind of an idiot," Brittany giggled. "I know that they don't run off of pixie dust, but do YOU know what they run off of?"

"Uhm…uhm…" Matt stammered, trying to think back to ninth grade Science where the covered physics for exactly two and half weeks.

"Exactly," Brittany smirked triumphantly.

"Bitch slapped, boxer briefs," Santana scowled at Matt. "So okay, damage control, ladies. Berry called MIKE. Not me."

"I'm sorry?" Mike mumbled, clearly not knowing what the scary ass Cheerio wanted to hear at that point. He certainly didn't need to be beaten down again because Rachel considered him a better friend than Santana. Even if he kind of wanted to rub her face in it _just a little_.

"So she must still think that you're like, kidnapped," Santana pondered, staring at the phone thoughtfully. She was lost in plots, thoughts and schemes so much that she didn't even hear Matt's cellphone start to play "Maneater".

"KURT?" Matt wondered.

"You shouldn't drive and talk at the same time! Oprah said so!" Brittany screeched, causing Matt to flinch and drive a little more erratically.

Santana wrenched the phone from Matt's hands and demanded, "What do you know Hotpants?"

…

…

…

"NO. That's _awesome_. I'll handle it from here."

Santana handed each boy his respective phone and turned to Mike with a smirk. "Here's what we're going to do."

* * *

What do you think Puck did to make Burt take a serious chill pill on his damaged property? Why is Rachel such a martyr-ific whack-a-doodle? Seriously? Mocha-Bear and Cadillac? Craaazaaay. And what do Mercy and Satan-a have up their sleeves? Can I manage to write it without getting another idea for a full-length fic from the dang puckrachel meme? ;)

All of these questions and so much more might be answered in the next chapter. Thanks for stopping by, gentle-readers.


	15. Chapter 15

Haha! Take that writer's block! SUCK IT! Really? I forced this out so that I could do another chapter of Misft Toy Hero Squad. I'm so bad. But, I hope you enjoy Fuickleberry nonetheless. We should be done with this in the next three chapters or so, believe it or not! YAY!

* * *

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

***July, 2010 – Hershey, Pennsylvania***

"What's the winner get again?"

"2500 dollars and season passes for next year," Mercedes smirked as Finn's mouth literally began to water.

"And we just have to sing a song and win?" Quinn furrowed her brow. "We can do that…I mean, we regularly put together like, four routines a week. We can come up with something in the next few hours."

"And the money would be particularly helpful," Rachel admitted softly, staring at the poster outside of the amusement park's amphitheatre. There was a talent show that very evening run by a local radio show.

"Seriously, it'd be like a cake walk," Puck nodded. "We're in the middle of Pennsylvania. Its not like we're on America's Got Talent or some other shit like that."

"Actually, there is one group that we saw rehearsing this morning. Personally, I would LOVE to give them a run for their money," Kurt said nonchalantly. One eyebrow arched in a very sinister manner as he nudged Puck's shoulder ever so slightly. "Starts with a J and ends in, how did you always put it? St. Douchebag."

"I'm in," Rachel piped up immediately. She looked between Mercedes and Kurt and immediately went into commander general mode. "You will find us the most lovely outfits you can. Nothing too risqué. This is a family establishment."

Rachel smiled at Quinn and looked at Finn warily. "Our best dancers are kidnapped. You have to be able to figure out easy steps that Finn can do without looking entirely spastic."

"You know what would make me look less spastic?" Finn said eagerly, not even bothering to dispute his spastic status. He pouted with as much charm as he could muster at the girls before pointing forlornly at the rides in the immediate area, "Coasters…"

"Noah and I will work out the arrangement. Give us an hour, meet us back here and we'll start rehearsing immediately after lunch," Rachel insisted. Her teammates remained stationary for at least five seconds too long and soon Rachel was waving her hands at them wildly, demanding, "Go, Go, GO!"

***On The Road***

"Whaddup Divalicious? You two alone?" Santana demanded over the cell phone she held in the air so that all the inhabitants of her truck could hear.

"Cadi?" Matt whispered hopefully, before Mike seriously pinched him to get him to shut the hell up. There was no saving him from Santana if the lovesick boy interfered with her plans.

"We're here, Santana," Kurt eagerly piped up as Mercedes eyes misted with tears at the sound of Matt's voice. "Ready for orders."

Santana smirked. She loved that Kurt was a Cheerio. He completely understood the Order of the Bitches. She cleared her throat slightly and said, "I'm only saying this once. Do exactly as I say. This summer is still salvageable. Number one, you guys are going to win that prize money. Got it?"

"We'll do our best," Kurt promised.

"Uhm, hello? I didn't say Number one, do you fucking fluffy best! I said you were going to win that prize money or you will stab yourselves in the face with amusement park sporks!" Santana barked authoritatively. "You will make sure that Rachel and her band of merry idiots take all the prize money. And when they get into contact with Chang again, you will send them West. Understood?"

"Absolutely," Kurt assured her. "We won't let you down, Santana. But if I might ask…why are you doing this?'

"I owe Berry a favor," Santana said shortly before hanging up the phone. She grinned at Brittany and confidently claimed, "I'm like the _best_ friend ever."

***Hershey, Pennsylvania***

"Rachel Berry! Where on EARTH did you find those horrendous things on your legs?" Kurt screeched at the girl as they all prepared for their performance, minus Finn and Puck. Mercedes and Quinn were currently giggling their heads off while they reapplied another shellacking of lipgloss onto their already heavily coated lips. "I was willing to let the tiny skirt slide because I was being generous and even I can realize that a little of your legs goes along way with the male demographic, but if you were those, we'll get point deducted for inciting a perverted Asian business man sex riot."

"Noah picked these out at one of the souvenir shops," Rachel pouted slightly, adjusting the pink knee socks with Hershey kisses pattered over them. "He knows that I prefer to wear knee socks."

"You are SO very misguided," Kurt blew out an exasperated breath. "Puck likes the knee socks. You've tricked yourself into thinking that you like them too."

"I do like them," Rachel mumbled miserably.

"Where is the perv, anyway? And tall dumb and whitebread?" Mercedes wondered as she fluffed Quinn's hair needlessly. She shot a knowing smirk Rachel's way and said, "I'd give you hot pig-tails, Rachel, but I think Puck is going to have to be mobile."

"I really resent the fact that you all seem to think that Noah and I are prime gossip material," Rachel rolled her eyes. She caught Quinns' eye and announced with a measure of eager spitefulness, "Finn and Quinn consummated their relationships in the woods of West Virginia a few days ago, you know."

"WHAAAAA?" Mercedes gasped.

Kurt turned on his heel and arched an eyebrow at Quinn. Sure, he was over the lovey dovey feelings towards Finn Hudson, but he was a human being, not a saint. He couldn't help the angry vibes he threw Quinn's way. "Let's hope you used protection this time?"

"We didn't…I mean. He thinks we did, and he, well, he _got there_, but there was no actual…interlocking of parts," Quinn stammered nervously. She pointed an accusatory finger at Rachel and said, "Rachel got us all HIGH!"

Kurt and Mercedes head's swiveled Rachel's way again curiously, finding the girl lost for words for a moment before squaring her shoulders and throwing back.

"Quinn KILLED Thumper with her BARE hands!"

"Rachel spent five hours in a sweaty box crammed next to Puckerman. I swear to God she WREAKED of sex when I let them out!"

"QUINN KISSED ME AND TOUCHED MY BREASTS!" Rachel shrieked.

"WOAH."

The quartet turned around to see a newly arrived Puck and Finn standing behind them. Rachel's accusations had put a smile on Puck's face and a dazed Finn swayed uncertainly on his feet at the heady feelings. Puck looked Rachel's ensemble up and down, a cute denim skirt and pink Hershey park t-shirt topped off by those totally awesome pink socks he had liberated from a gift shop after their time spent in the park's "Record your own Song" booth. Each of the teenagers had a variation of denim on their lower halfs and a brightly colored Hershey t-shirt on top. Schue had drilled them well in looking like a true group whilst still retaining their individuality after all.

"Thought you guys might want to know that the Douche is performing next. We can watch, or we can all have fun time talk instead?" Puck shrugged, his eyebrow quirking at the choice he obviously felt was the correct choice. Rachel rolled her eyes and stalked towards him, gripping him on the elbow and leading him to one of the top rows of the outdoor amphitheatre. The rest of their group joined them and they watched with intense scrutiny as a single beam of light lit Jesse St. James' regrettably beautiful face.

Puck squirmed in slight discomfort and mumbled a low, rumbling, "Booooooooo…" until Rachel's hand gripped his thigh in an entirely delightful way, assuring his silence.

"This is so boring," Quinn whispered to Mercedes as Jesse began to sing an acapella version of an old eighties power rock ballad. The spotlight on the boy's face widened ever so slightly and what could only be explained as Jesse's backup singers began their oooohs and ahh's unenthusiastically.

"If I start snoring, don't hit me too hard," Finn demanded of Puck. "And don't let Kurt pinch me to wake me up. I always wind up screaming."

"Cold Hands," Kurt explained to Rachel, who shushed her teammate.

"Seriously this is so vanilla," Mercedes grumbled. "We've got this in the bag."

"Will you please shut your mouth? No doubt you would find it incredibly offensive if someone were interrupting your song," Rachel hissed, missing Puck's pouting reaction to her words. "Although I think this number is lacking in exciting pizzazz that is necessary in such a theatrical setting, Jesse's voice is _flawless_ and it will be exceedingly difficult to overcome that particular skill."

"Whatever, my ASS is flawless, but you get all mad when I pass gas," Puck grumbled.

The crowd erupted in applause when Jesse's number was finished. Rachel rose to her feet, not to applaud, but to shepherd her group towards their places before they were announced. The announcer already thanked Jesse and went on to read from his card, although Jesse seemed reluctant to give up his spot on the stage.

"Ladies and Gentleman…all the way from Lima, Ohio, give a warm welcome to our next contestants, New Directions!"

Jesse's brow furrowed as he spun in a circle on stage, expecting to see Rachel and her band of merry misfits and testosterone fueled romantic attachments. Instead, he heard six perfectly blended voices singing out the opening woohs and wahh's to Billy Joel's "Uptown Girl". The spotlight searched the audience finding the six members of the Glee club one by one as the boys made it to the stage first.

"_Uptown Girl…she's been living in her uptown world…I bet she's never had a backstreet guy…I bet her momma never told her why…._"

The three boys did simple steps in front of the audience and brought their hands down to the girls, helping them up on stage as the music Puck and Rachel had arranged began to kick up, the girls sang,

"_Come on Rude boy, boy, Can you give it up?"_

"_Uptown girl…"_

"_Come on Rude boy, boy, Are you big enough…"_

Jesse had been pushed to the wings of the amphitheatre at that point and could only watch in horrified fascination as six high school students from a subpar, loser Glee club mashed up _Uptown Girl_ and _Rude Boy_ effortlessly. Their choreography was incredibly basic, but the six of them had practiced so thoroughly together in the last school year that it was perfectly synchronized and accommodating to each of them. They were rough around the edges, certainly. But the roughness only endeared them to the crowd.

Even the tall doofus that had presumed to be able to take Rachel away from him, THE Jesse St. James, was making his spastic movements work as he harmonized with that ass hammer Noah Puckerman. _Noah Puckerman_. Rachel was fooling herself if she thought she had pulled the wool over her eyes for one moment. Sure, the pictures had always been hidden those three times he came over to her house. But they were barely hidden. Sometimes Rachel had been so lazy that she had simply faced the framed pictures towards the wall.

Pictures of the two of them together, grinning and happy since they were ten. She may have half-heartedly tried to hide it from him, but Jesse always knew that Finn Hudson wasn't the threat. Noah Puckerman was.

The young man in question was currently belting out the final words of Uptown Girl as the rest of the group sang a perfectly harmonized "Rude Boy" line at the same time. The crowd went absolutely insane, jumping to their feet, whistling and yelling at the top of their lungs. Jesse took a deep breath. Sure, he had felt something like that before. He had dazzled hundreds and thousands at competitions. Competitions already full of paying customers that had sought him out. These idiots from Lima had just completely enamored a group of total strangers who had only wandered into the amphitheatre to find a place to sit while they nibbled on amusement park food.

He'd never quite been able to do that.

He didn't stick around for the awards ceremony. Second place was never something he wanted to stick around for. That's the reason he never tried to fight for his chance at a relationship with Rachel when his team had pressed the issue.

Later in the day, when the park was closing and he was making his way out to his car, he saw Rachel giggle and laugh and launch herself at Noah Puckerman, who was pointing at a ridiculously large check for first place. Jesse steeled himself and walked up to them, professionally offering,

"Congratulations. Although, a word of advice? A performance like that will NEVER win regionals. You have a lot of cleaning up to do," Jesse offered.

"We'll get there," Puck promised. His hand found its way to settle on Rachel's back unknowingly. "We'll get there in no time."

The six McKinley High students watched in interest as Jesse strode off, obviously disappointed, but certainly not angry. Quinn shrugged when Mercedes poked at her and she muttered, "He deserves this. He's an asshole. Maybe this is making him a better person."

"Thank you for what you did, Quinn," Rachel said suddenly. "I know its probably really evil of me, but I've never been exactly completely innocent so…it really means a lot to me that you and Santana would go to suck great lengths…"

"Berry-pants?" Noah wondered, reaching into their stolen car and gripping her cell phone in his hands. "We gotta message from Mike…"

Rachel grabbed for her cell phone and read aloud,

"Don't call…Matt was punished for the noise. Don't know how much time I have…head west. _Help us_."

* * *

Since when did Jesse get so introspective? Since when did I decide to climb into Jesse's head? How awesome would a mashup of Uptown Girl and Rude Boy be? Uptown girl was definitely Puck's idea...I"m thinking Rude boy was Kurt's. And seriously, we know that Fuickleberry and the dancing Cheerios and jock's mash up in Vegas...but how on Earth do they get there? And since I'm on vacation until Monday (YES!), maybe I can finish this thing once and for all and move on to more supernatural pastures...

Thank you seriously very much for your patience. I appreciate the kind words I received about continuing this. let's hope writer's block stays dead.


	16. Chapter 16

I completely understand if everyone hates me. I had a life crisis. All is good now though. Life crisis solved. Now back to the truly important things. Finishing Fuickleberry (just a few chapters left) and get back to Misfits (hopefully to be posted in the next few days!).

Thank you for sticking with me. I really appreciate your patience and general awesomeness. On with the show.

_Previously on Fuickleberry: Puck, Rachel, Finn and Quinn set off from Lima, Ohio on the first day of summer break to rescue a presumably kidnapped Mike and Matt Rutherford. Puck runs out of gas while they are in hot pursuit of a lojacked truck. They get picked up by Brandi Walton, Jesus lover/truck driver extraordinaire and she threatens to baptize the evil Jews. They epically escape to the woods, Quinn kills a bunny for bunny stew and Rachel gets everyone high with organic mushrooms. They head on the road again and carjack a used car salesman and get to Hershey, PA, where they assume their kidnapped Glee club teammates are, however, they find the Hummels, Carol and Mercedes' peeps on vacay. Finn throws a rock through Burt's car again, and the kids run into Jesse St. James, who has lost his scholarship to UCLA and spends his days performing at the themepark in a giant and hot and sweaty bearsuit. Adding insult to more insults to Jesse, the Gleek's team up and take first place in the singing competition at the theme park and head west in search of Mike and Matt...who haven't quite been kidnapped, but are definitely some kind of hostages to Santana and Brittany.  
_

_whew. That's quite a lot. Have fun reading that Brad.  
_

**

* * *

Fuickleberry Saves the World: The Dramatic and Badass Rescue of Mike Chang and Matt Rutherford!**

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

* * *

The quartet of Finn, Quinn, Rachel and Puck headed west from Hershey, Pennsylvania in their stolen car with a ridiculously sized check for $2500 dollars and one simple text message from Mike Chang.

_Help us. What happens here stays here._

Puck had been so excited that they were heading towards Vegas that he had managed to out chatter Rachel completely. Somehow, through all of their trials and tribulations, he had managed to keep a hold of his fake id and he was currently regaling them on how he was going to clean up at the blackjack tables.

"The thing is, I don't look smart. See, watch me do the Finn face," Puck insisted as he drove into the night. They had been driving for 18 hours, and had managed to make it to the great state of Indiana. They were heading to the first Bank of America they could so that Rachel could cash their over-sized check and then they could pay for a motel room where they could shower, change and recharge their batteries before non-stop driving to Vegas and saving their boys.

This would have worked amazingly. But apparently, karma wanted to strike them down.

"Do you smell burning? I smell burning," Finn mumbled sleepily from the back seat of the car where he and Quinn were avidly trying to sleep before their driving shift started.

"That slimy son of a bitch," Quinn hissed, climbing over Finn's ridiculously long limbs and peaking at the dashboard. "We're overheating. The car dealership guy totally was trying to sell us a lemon."

"Well if it's any consolation, we did steal it from him," Rachel mumbled dryly as Puck began to pull the car over due to the heavy smoke coming from under the hood making it incredibly difficult to see. Rachel pouted and demanded, "Why can't _anything_ go right for us this summer?"

"The phone says there's a town with a garage one and a half miles away," Quinn announced wearily as they all made their way out of the car, each instinctively grabbing all of the possessions they had acquired, Rachel clutched the giant check while the others loaded their arms with duffle bags.

"Do you think we could hitch a ride?" Finn wondered hopefully.

His suggestion was met with total silence from his traveling companions and after about two minutes of trudging along the road, the tall boy finally noticed Puck, Rachel and Quinn were all gaping at him with incredulous horror. He shrugged at the stiffly and grumbled.

"It's super hot, and I'm tired."

"Can I please, just this one time, Berry-pants?" Puck turned to Rachel with definite pleading and desperation in his gaze.

Rachel rolled her eyes and her mouth turned upwards slightly as she deferred to Quinn magnanimously, "Would it be too horrible to allow Noah to assault Finn just this once for a truly horrible idea?"

"Assault away," Quinn rolled her eyes.

The two girls continued walking as Puck lunged for Finn, who loudly complained,

"Get off me, Puck! It's too hot to rough-house-OWWW, what was that for?"

"You said rough-house, dill-hole. What are you? Like, eighty-five or something?" Puck demanded as he continued to swat up at the back of Finn's head. "How many times do I have to hit you before you understand that we aren't hitchhiking anymore. You wanted to hitchhike once, and Rachel and I almost got fucking baptized you douchetard!"

"Was that my idea?" Finn wondered.

"You thought it up when you peed on the side of the road!" Quinn reminded him as she and Rachel continued to amble down the road, shoulder to shoulder as they giggled over the boys' antics.

"Oh right," Finn nodded. "Okay, I won't have anymore peeing ideas, then."

"That's be a fucking super duper awesome start," Puck hit the back of Finn's head once more playfully.

"Not like you have any bright ideas," Finn scoffed.

"I've got shitloads of ideas," Puck insisted. "Like for one...everyone into the bushes!"

Rachel and Quinn dove for it immediately, sensing the urgency in his voice. Puck had to grab Finn's arm and practically throw him to the side of the road as they hid from view. A state police car zoomed by their hiding spot and came to a direct stop at their abandoned stolen car. Puck balled his hands into fists and swore under his breath. Rachel looked to him with wide eyes and whispered,

"Are we going to be okay?"

"Well, we just lost our wheels, for sure," Puck sighed.

"Dammit!" Quinn stomped her foot.

"Oh God, oh god, oh god," Finn mumbled.

"Finn Hudson, calm down," Quinn gripped his forearm between both of her hands. She shot a look Rachel's way and said, "He's seriously three seconds away from a meltdown. I think his blood sugar is low."

"We're going to get stranded here forever. Alone in the woods," Finn practically whined. Their summer adventure was definitely beginning to take its toll. "It'll be like Lord of the Flies, except Rachel will eat our brains and floss her teeth with our vocal chords."

"DUDE!" Puck growled at him.

"Or we'll get arrested, and Noah'll have to make you his bitch in prison!" Rachel hissed at Finn, immediately wounded and lashing out.

"Guys, chill. He just needs a candy bar, he'll be fine. Just everyone shut up!" Quinn demanded.

"I'm NOT sleeping in the woods again or eating magic mushrooms or getting kidnapped, can't we just...can't we go home?" Finn demanded.

"That's wonderful, Finn. Let's just go home and enjoy our summers by the pool while poor Michael and Matthew are trapped and helpless and alone!" Rachel rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Time out, time out!" Puck demanded of everyone, grabbing Rachel's hand and attempting to bring her down a few notches before she could really get started with lambasting poor low blood sugar Finn. He took a few deep breaths as surprisingly they all did what he wanted. Without intending to, his thumb ran circles around in the inside of Rachel's wrist, slowly soothing her as her cheeks flushed and her breathing evened out. Finally he nodded to Quinn and asked, "Check the maps. Where's the nearest motel?"

"Uhm...next to the gas station. It's like, all in a line. Gas station. Motel. Bar. Pawn shop," Quinn shrugged.

"Sweet. We're going to walk through the woods quietly. No arguing. No insulting. No hitting," Puck insisted. "Quinn and Finn are going into the gas station so Finn can grab a candy bar and stop being a douchebag."

"You said no insulting," Quinn reminded him with an overly dramatic eyeroll.

"Doesn't count yet," Puck waved her off with his free hand. "Berry-pants and I are going to the pawn shop and cashing that check. Then we're going to get a motel room for the night. In the morning, we'll get tickets. Bus tickets or train tickets or any kind of tickets to get our asses to Vegas. Alright? We good? Anyone else want to have a pissy ass bitch fit? All right. Let's transform and roll out."

"Hey. When we were kids, you let ME be Optimus," Finn mumbled irritably. "You always wanted to be Hot Rod or Bumblebee."

"Finn. You're an idiot," Puck grumbled.

"No insulting, Noah."

* * *

"I'm going to kill that guy. I'm going to rip out his insides with my bare hands and I'm going to give the rotten and disgusting fatty innards to Hummel so he can make an outfit for Lady Gaga to wear. It'll be a win-win-win-win-win-win!"

_"Mike?"_

Santana continued to rant as she barreled down the highway at insanely high speeds. Mike looked out of the corner of his eye to Matt, seriously scared out of his mind. If Santana saw any sudden movement, he was sure the girl would kill him with the strength of a heated glare alone. Then his whole body would implode as she verbally abused him. He didn't want to die like that. It wasn't exactly honorable.

They had hit up the third round of "So You Think You Can Dance" auditions, and had all been turned away yet again. Brittany had been told that she would need a little face work done to be taken seriously and suffice it to say, Santana had Lost. Her. Shit. The boys had managed to drag her out of the audition space kicking and screaming and her dramatics had earned them all restraining orders. They wouldn't be auditioning anymore that summer for any Fox program.

"Santana, I don't mind. I like my face. I know I'm like, super hot," Brittany insisted with a happy smile. "And besides. Now we can just go to Vegas and spend our days at the pool and our nights making tons and tons of money. And then later we can cuddle."

"Hold up, what are you doing for money and the cuddling what now?" Matt muttered.

He cursed his luck. He had managed to spend pretty much all of his adolescent years as the silent type. He had managed to keep his mouth mostly shut when Puck and Rachel had danced around each other for years. He had managed to keep his mouth shut time after time when Schue had insisted on rapping like the whitest white bread that ever was. He had managed to stay completely silent while witnessing special girl time with Brittany and Santana. His lack of words and sound had protected him. Kept him alive.

And now he had fucked it all to hell.

"RUTHERFORD YOU MOTHER FUCKING FUCKER!" Santana howled. "Are you trying to say that me and Britts are going to get our prostitute on in Vegas?"

"Uhm. No?" Matt said hopefully.

Santana squinted at him shrewdly through the rear view mirror. Very slowly, the right corner of her mouth lifted into a cunning smirk. Matt did not like the look of that smirk. He swallowed deeply as he waited for Santana to speak again.

"Good. Because you and Mike are going to be the ones making the real money. Vegas needs boy strippers too, you know."

* * *

Are Fuickleberry and SannittanyChangford finally both heading in the same direction? Could it be that I'm getting everyone to Vegas FINALLY? Will Finn calm the hell down and stop being a whiny bitch once he's had a twix fix? What on Earth could possibly happen to Fuickleberry as they spend an evening in a small town motel with a BAR around the corner?

All of these questions will be answered in the next installment of Fuickleberry! And hopefully in the next few days, we will get another chapter of Misfits! YAY!


	17. Chapter 17

I know. I stink. I really hope to get this finished before Season 3. Cross your fingers for me and send me happy thoughts.

* * *

_Previously on Fuickleberry: Puck, Rachel, Finn and Quinn set off from Lima, Ohio on the first day of summer break to rescue a presumably kidnapped Mike and Matt Rutherford. Puck runs out of gas while they are in hot pursuit of a lojacked truck. They get picked up by Brandi Walton, Jesus lover/truck driver extraordinaire and she threatens to baptize the evil Jews. They epically escape to the woods, Quinn kills a bunny for bunny stew and Rachel gets everyone high with organic mushrooms. They head on the road again and carjack a used car salesman and get to Hershey, PA, where they assume their kidnapped Glee club teammates are, however, they find the Hummels, Carol and Mercedes' peeps on vacay. Finn throws a rock through Burt's car again, and the kids run into Jesse St. James, who has lost his scholarship to UCLA and spends his days performing at the themepark in a giant and hot and sweaty bearsuit. Adding insult to more insults to Jesse, the Gleek's team up and take first place in the singing competition at the theme park and head west in search of Mike and Matt...who haven't quite been kidnapped, but are definitely some kind of hostages to Santana and Brittany._

* * *

**Fuickleberry Saves the World: The Dramatic and Badass Rescue of Mike Chang and Matt Rutherford!**

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

* * *

"What are you doing, Brittany?"

Mike and Matt had instantaneous, identical reactions to Santana's gentle, curious, almost _cute_ question. She had been ranting and raving at the for days on end. Non-stop. Never ending. Horror show. They wanted to tear their eardrums out and shove them in their eyesockets kind of horror. But the minute she was talking to Brittany, it was all warm syrup cuddles and fluffy Downy dryer sheet scented stuffed animals.

"Drawing," Brittany hummed happily as she doodled on a wide variety of napkins they had collected throughout their journey.

"Drawing what?" Mike asked curiously.

"Ministrations," Brittany shrugged as she scribbled happily with the crayons that Santana had happily appropriated from the Denny's they had gotten breakfast from that morning.

"Illustrations?" Matt wondered.

"Story pictures. Ministrations," Brittany said slowly.

The chuckle in Matt's throat died as he got a laser like movement out of the corner of his eye and saw Santana's harsh, evil glare find him in the rearview mirror. Mike glared at Matt in a similar fashion before reaching up to the front seat and swiping one of the napkins. Sure enough, they were filled with stick figures enacting some kind of scene. One of them was Puck. That was easy enough to figure out, as the stick figure had well-muscled arms and a mohawk. Another one _had_ to be Finn, as the stick figure was so long that there was no head to it, just a giant body.

The two stick figures seemed to be having a good time, standing in front of a bar and knocking back beers. Mike smiled at the music notes scribbled across the page and the speech bubble coming from Finn singing "Open Arms".

"It looks accurate. Do you think that's what those guys are doing right now?" Mike wondered.

"No," Brittany shook her head. "I know that's what they're doing right now."

"My girl is so smart," Santana beamed at Brittany before focusing back on the road.

"What else is going to happen?" Mike wondered, ignoring Matt's eye roll. "I mean, where are the girls while the boys are drinking? And why are the boys chilling at a bar when they're supposed to be all worried about us and stuff?"

"That's what I'm drawing now!" Brittany grinned, waving a napkin in the air.

Mike squinted and furrowed his brow at what he could see from the fluttering napkin. There was the cartoonish dustup illustation, complete with asterisks and Batman-like kaplows. There was even a large amount of fire in the background. It looked like one ginourmous shit storm.

"Oh boy," Mike muttered. "That can't be good."

* * *

"I'm very, very, very worried about the boys," Quinn said quietly as Rachel exited the bathroom of their motel room, coming through her tangled hair.

"They haven't returned yet?" Rachel gasped, dropping the comb to the floor.

Quinn rolled her eyes and picked up the comb, forcefully shoving Rachel onto one of the plastic pleather chairs that she was _sure_ were from 1967. She gripping Rachel's shoulder gently until the girl stopped squirming and obviously worked at fighting back her flight response to imminent danger. Quinn reached past Rachel and grabbed the leave-in conditioner she had used earlier, and said with a calm softness inches away from Rachel's ear,

"I don't want you to panic. I really kind of doubt they got arrested or anything."

"I apologize, but with the events of this summer so far, the only logical next step is that someone ends up incarcerated," Rachel admitted, biting her lip anxiously.

"If that happens, you and Puck will figure it out. And if its you both getting thrown into jail, I'll do my best," Quinn smiled as she pulled the wide-toothed comb through Rachel's wet, tangled hair with surprising gentleness. "I think we should braid it, two pigtails. That way with the conditioner, when we take them out, you'll look all soft and pretty."

Rachel swallowed and turned her head as much as she could while Quinn continued her ministrations on her hair. She could practically FEEL her own eyes soften in a way they had only ever done for Noah previously as she tried to peek at Quinn, who had just presumably called _her_, Rachel Berry, **pretty**.

Quinn rolled her eyes and gave a slightly exasperated sigh before firmly turning Rachel's head so that she could plait the long brown locks neatly. She finished with a flourish and nodded, "Totally cute."

"Thank you, Quinn," Rachel smiled softly. Her hands fiddled with the ends of the braided pigtails and her soft smile turned into a real grin. "Want to go and find our boys?"

"Yeah, I'm starving, actually," Quinn nodded. "I hope they got cheese fries..."

* * *

"Dude. How long does it take to make cheese fries?" Finn grumbled.

"SHUT. UP." Puck growled. He brought the bottle of beer up to his lips and swigged the precious brown amber liquid down. "We got served without even breaking out the fake ids. And you know if we act like little bitches about how long the food is taking, they're just going to spit in it and do gross shit to it."

"It's not like they're not going to mess with already since you had to put in Rachel's special no deliciousness order," Finn rolled his eyes, taking another swig of his third beer. He shrugged and wondered, "Don't you just wish sometimes that she was more...normal?"

"Fuck that noise," Puck grumbled.

"Yeah, yeah, you're like in love with her, whatever, get real for a minute," Finn insisted in annoyance. He didn't quite know what he was after, but he wanted Puck to say the wrong thing. Just once. "It'd be easier if she were normal."

"She's Rachel," Puck shook his head, taking a swig of his beer. "I hate normal. Normal's boring. Rachel is..._Rachel_. I like her as is, dude. And you honestly thought you loved her? When all you can think about is changing her?"

Finn had no easy answer, and instead drained the rest of his bottle. Puck followed suit and the bartender quickly replaced the bottles with new ones. Puck couldn't help but feel he shouldn't have paid their dinner bill with that hundred, because he was beginning to think there was some kind of scam going on to get the rest of the change he had pocketed. He didn't notice when the front door to the bar swung open and the bartender jerked his head in their direction.

"Good evening, boys," a dulcet tone interrupted both of the boys' concentration. They looked up to see the owner of the voice was one busty and flirty looking red head.

"New in town?" her blonde companion wondered with a smile.

"Stopping by for that big NFL combine thing?" the redhead wondered congenially.

"You look like a football player," the blonde cooed, her arm finding Finn's bicep and giving it a playful squeeze.

Puck made one incredulous face and looked down at his awesome guns and scoffed out loud, perhaps a little more drunkenly than he realized. His guns were _way _more impressive than Finnessa's. Everyone knew that. His Berry-pants damn well knew that.

"Don't worry, sweetie, I think you're totally lickable," the red-head reassured him. And then to prove her point, she brought her mouth to the shell of his ear and Puck nearly jumped out of his skin, as he hadn't realized that she was that close.

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF HIM, YOU GINGER-HARLOT!"

Puck's eyes widened as he heard the door to the bar slam shut behind one newly arrived Rachel and Quinn. They looked _pissed_.

Shit was about to go down.

Finn's jaw dropped in an almost comical manner as he watched Rachel continue to scream insults, although he knew that his brain had done him some small mercy and blocked the sound out. He was more concerned with the incredibly silent Quinn as she walked with graceful steps towards him and the unknown blonde who was currently trying to crawl on him standing upright. That was a bad look in those green eyes. He had seen _Santana_ cry after being verbally smacked down by Quinn and the look in her eyes then was nothing compared to the darn near murderous glint in Quinn's eyes now.

"Can you shut that midget freak up?" the redhead demanded of Puck.

Things kind of went to hell after that.

Puck flinched in disgust and stepped away from the girl that had obviously marked he and Finn as potential future meal tickets. He was about to tell her to jump off a cliff when someone else intervened. It was a blur of activity then, like a Tazmanian Devil blur of activity, but from what Puck saw, was that Quinn was slamming the red-head into the bar angrily.

"Don't call her a midget freak!" Quinn growled lowly.

"Wow. Honest to god Lezbos," the blonde smirked.

"Excuse me?" Rachel asked quietly.

"Seriously, chick, this ain't no big city. We've never seen the Ellen show, much less the live lezbo act."

"I'm going to ignore your completely atrocious grammar and instead I'm going to focus every ounce of determination in my admittedly small frame into DESTROYING YOUR FACE," Rachel promised, with just that little ounce of insanity that Puck really actually sort of loved about her.

"Shouldn't be too hard, Berry-pants," Puck grinned. "Chick's totally not all there in the face."

"DUDE," Finn whispered to Puck as Rachel and Quinn pushed their respective fight club partner. "Don't egg her on."

"It's fucking hot, though," Puck shrugged.

Finn watched as Quinn completely manhandled the red-head across the bar, and even with the sound of girl screeching and other patrons yelling and glass smashing, he had to admit it was pretty hot. That was until a bottle of vodka smashed over the open flame of a flickering candle. And soon the hot cat fight got _literally_ hot. As in the whole bar was now set ablaze.

"POLICE! FREEZE!"

"Oh shit," Puck breathed as he watched Rachel and Quinn finish off the girls with one last respective shove. He caught Rachel's glance and he managed to mouth two words to her before giving her a wink.

"How in the heck are we going to get them out of this mess?" Finn wondered as the bartender calmly put out the fire on the bar, then handed them two bags of takeout. He watched as Rachel and Quinn were taken out with the other girls in handcuffs.

"Don't worry," Puck shrugged, grabbing the bags and heading for the door. "I've got it covered."

* * *

Is Brittany psychic? Is Faberry on? Will Puck never not be turned on by girl on girl action of any kind, shape or flavor? What kind of plan could Puck and Rachel possibly have to avoid possible incarceration? All of these questions and so many more will be answered eventually. Love you all.


	18. Chapter 18

**Fuickleberry Saves the World: The Dramatic and Badass Rescue of Mike Chang and Matt Rutherford!**

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

**. . .**

"Remember that episode of Law and Order where those kids had to get bailed out, wasn't it like...a hundred thousand dollars? We only have like two-thousand dollars...we're going to need," Finn paused as he and Puck walked out of the bar amidst the chaos. His brain tried to calculate the math, and Puck could have sworn the gentle, goofy giant's brain started smoking as his cheeks grew flushed with concentration.

"We're not going to need bail money," Puck insisted. He looked across to Rachel who was being cuffed next to a seriously panicked Quinn. He held up two fingers to the brunette and she closed her eyes in slight disdain before nodding.

"Are we going to just bum rush the cops and take our girls back?" Finn wondered anxiously. He shook his head and whispered, "Puck, dude, you know I only get clumsier in a fight...or under pressure. This is BOTH. I'm going to be doubly clumsy."

"No fighting," Puck insisted with a harsh whisper. "Just relax and let me do the talking."

"You're not doing much of anything right now," Finn grumbled. He looked at Quinn worriedly as she too was handcuffed. Her eyes were full of tears and her whole face was pale and worried looking. Finn sighed and said quietly, "You don't know...this isn't good for Quinn. She's been sad since the baby. Like more than just sad about giving the baby up. It's not normal sad. Like post-traumatic something or other."

Puck furrowed his brow and said, "She never said anything about that."

"When's she had the time? You and Rachel have been attached by the hip all summer, and when you're not we're like in...crazy life ending danger," Finn articulated thoughtfully. "I can see it though. That's not normal Quinn sad. She's not in a good place, dude."

"Okay, we got this. Don't worry. Those cuffs will be off in five to ten minutes and then we'll take them back to the motel and be out of here by the morning," Puck promised. He watched as Rachel blinked very rapidly before she took a deep, calming breath. And then, an explosion of sound came from her tiny mouth.

"**If you're havin' girl problems i feel bad for you son! I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one...**"

"Oh my God," Finn breathed in sharply, his eyebrows shooting all the way up into his hairline in astonishment. He looked to Puck and saw that his friend had rushed off to Rachel, his way completely blocked by a policeman.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but it's only going to get worse," Puck said earnestly. "You need to let me talk to her or..."

"**I got the rap patrol on the gat patrol...Foes that wanna make sure my casket's closed!" **Rachel rapped with as much volume and swagger as she could possibly muster. She eyed the cop that wasn't occupied with holding Noah at bay. She did her very best intensely passionate gaze at him, which Quinn, who was stifling giggles, had easily categorized as _batshit crazy eyes_. She paused in her rapping, feigning a moment where she forgot the next lyrics (_as if Rachel Berry could ever forget any lyrics_) and she opened her mouth and emitted the loudest and most ear splitting high G she could, rapidly sliding the note higher and higher until it was unbearable.

"Rap critics they say she's _Money Cash Hoes_," Puck added, stopping the screaming short.

"**I'm from the hood stupid, what type of facts are those...If you grew up with holes in ya zapatos**," Rachel continued rapping loudly.

Puck grimaced at the cop who had been trying to hold him back, who had stopped his ministrations in order to cover his ears from Rachel's deafening noise. The teenager held up his hands in surrender and said earnestly, "I'm only trying to help you out, bro. My girl over there...she's not quite right."

"**You'd be celebrating the minute you was havin' dough, I'm like fuck critics you can kiss my whole asshole!**" Rachel screamed.

"SHE'S CRAZY!" Quinn jumped in helpfully. "She'll be at it all night now. First Jay-Z, then she'll move on to ACDC. And then...oh God. The Wiggles!"

"Let's just hope she doesn't remember High School Musical..." Puck lamented.

"Barry, I can't listen to High School Musical, my kids made me watch that 19 times in one week," the cop standing in front of Puck revealed. "I have night terrors about Zac Efron."

"Aww, Zefron is cool," Finn frowned. "I liked Charlie St. Cloud."

" **I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one...cause we're ALL IN THIS TOGETHER!" **Rachel sang-shouted with manic desperation.

"Berry-pants, its gonna be okay! Listen to me babe, calm down!" Puck demanded.

"Oh god, she can read our fears with her mind!" Quinn cried. She glared between Puck and Finn and demanded, "Where is her medication?"

"When we reach, We can fly, Know inside, We can make it!" Rachel added limited choreography to the mix as the volume got unbelievable louder.

"This isn't a joke? She's gonna sing all night?" the Zac Efron fearing cop demanded. "Barry, I can't do this."

"It's what she does when she's stressed. It's like a defense mechanism. I have to get her back to the motel...I can get her to calm down, but it's not going to work here," Puck said quickly and firmly. "Look, we're sorry about the bar, and we'll pay for the damages, but...she's got to get help, man."

"**GETCHER HEAD IN THE GAME GETCHA GETCHA GETCHA HEAD IN THE GAME**!"

"BARRY!"

"Okay, okay _fine_!" Barry yelled. Undoing Rachel's and Quinn's handcuffs. His eyes grew wide with astonishment as Rachel began to sing AND do complicated choreography. "You kids get the hell out of my sight. And you had better make this right with the bar before you get the HELL out of town."

"Yes sir, thank you sir," Puck nodded, rushing to Rachel and throwing her over his shoulder as he rushed back towards their motel.

Finn took Quinn's hand and nervously waved goodbye to the officers before he and Quinn took off quickly in pursuit of a still singing Rachel Berry and Noah Puckerman. They were back inside the room with the door bolted within five minutes. Finn looked down and checked his watch before looking up to Puck in astonishment. Puck and Rachel had collapsed into laughter on one of the beds, and Quinn soon followed. Finn was still stuck in confused disbelief as he looked at the other laughing teens.

"How did you know it would take five minutes?" he wondered.

Rachel held her sides and shook her head, "That wasn't the first time Plan 2 has been put into effect, I'm sad to say."

"Rachel Berry!" Quinn gasped and giggled at the same time, sounding like she was having confusing hiccups. "When on Earth have you been arrested before?"

"Not ME!" Rachel clarified. "I've had to play Noah's part before when he's been caught doing things that aren't quite to the letter of the law."

"Dude...did you sing Zefron songs too?" Finn laughed.

"NO!' Puck scoffed.

"Worse!" Rachel shook her head before dissolving in bone shaking gales of laughter on the bed, poking a suddenly sulking Puck's midsection. "Tell him."

"_I'm a Barbie Girl_," Puck muttered.

"AND?" Rachel demanded.

"...Spice Girls."

. . .

"VEGAS BABY!" Matt hollered, pumping his fist in the air.

"WOOHOO!" Mike called out into the wild, hot night air.

"VEGAS WOOHOO!" Brittany clapped her hands happily. "Can we go gamble now? I want to try counting cards."

Matt looked at her, his face entirely bemused. Mike nodded in agreement and Santana actually patted the blonde on the back. He looked between his three travel companions in confusion before finally voicing his concern.

"What the fuck?"

"She really is pretty good at it," Mike nodded.

"My girl can do anything and everything," Santana praised.

"How...we're-_seventeen_," Matt reminded them all. "We can't go gamble."

"Bitch, please," Santana scoffed. "You obviously have never lived a day in Lima Heights Adjacent. Cause in the REAL hood, mocha bear, we's be getting' our gamble on."

"Also, Santana has had a fake ID since she was twelve," Brittany revealed. She reached into her purse and pulled out a stack of cards and handed a few to Mike and Matt. "PRESENTS!"

"Bruce Lee," Mike read on of the fake Ids with his face on it. He glared at Santana and muttered, "Really, Satan? Really?"

"Morgan Freeman?" Matt scoffed.

"JACKIE CHAN?" Mike hissed.

"I'm Madonna," Brittany smiled. "Madonna Betterthanyou."

"Boys, what you're forgetting here, is that once we get into our room, Britts and I are gonna get our sexy on. And you will be escorting the two finest bitches in Las Vegas, and quite possibly the western half of these United States on to the floor of the MGM Grand. And then? Britts is going to get her Rain Man on, and we are going to be rich. Now. Leggo."

The boys followed, pouting slightly. Matt took a measured breath and demanded, "And what if it doesn't work?"

"If it doesn't work? I have two jobs set up for you losers at To Wong Fu's Caberet Cafe," Santana shrugged. "Don't worry boys, your legs are gonna look _fierce _in fishnets."


	19. Chapter 19

2012 is indeed the end of the world? Moving right along...

* * *

**Fuickleberry Saves the World: The First Adventure**

**The Dramatic and Badass Rescue of Mike Chang and Matt Rutherford**

* * *

**Chapter 19**

"Attention please! ATTENTION!"

Puck, Finn and Quinn turned towards the front door with nearly identical looks of perplexion on their faces. Rachel stood in front of the door, dressed and equipped as if she were about to go on a camping trip. Quinn actually smacked her forehead as she noticed the pink fanny pack around the girl's waist. Puck smiled at denim short overalls and was glad he had though of putting a pair in the cart at Wal-mart when they had gone shopping. They made him think of going to that pick your own strawberries place with his sister and just how kissable her lips had been after eating far more straight off the plant than they had put in the basket.

"Stop looking at me that way, Noah," Rachel warned. "We have quite a lot of pre-planning to do and very little time to do it. This isn't the time for inappropriate shenanigans."

"Objection," Puck shook his head. "Shenanigans are for all the time."

"I would hate to agree with Rachel, but she's right," Quinn shook her head. "This summer has been _literally_ insane. Maybe if we let Little Miss Type A make a plan or two and ACTUALLY follow it, we could find Mike and Matt and GO HOME."

"I miss home. And my mom's breakfast," Finn sighed.

"She pours out your fruity pebbles every morning, dipshit," Puck rolled his eyes.

"NOAH! Rule 1, no more picking at each other!" Rachel ordered, holding up a pink binder and pointing to a list of rules with undeniable authority. "We should focus our amazing energies and wits solely on our objective of rescuing our friends. Not tearing each other down. No more mean names. No more rudeness. No more..."

"We get it, lets move on," Quinn sighed. She pursed her lips in an obnoxious half-smile, half-sneer, hoping that Rachel noticed she didn't use an insulting modifier.

"Rule two: no deviating from the plan," Rachel insisted. "No more spur of the moment ideas unless they are properly drawn up in the accepted format with at least two back-ups and an easy out clause. We will then vote in order to approve any plans and move forward once a majority is attained."

"I'm so confused. Are we going to get breakfast? Or do I have to fill out paperwork?" Finn wondered.

"You will eat when I am satisfied that you understand we are not to be sidetracked by ridiculous adventures any longer," Rachel said seriously.

"We're going to starve," Puck mumbled, his eyes wide with horror. "I'm not trying to tear him down, but the Finnster isn't going to get this without at least three or four thousand calories in his gas tank."

"It's true," Finn nodded.

Rachel rolled her eyes and counted to ten, hoping to whatever higher power that would listen that she could hold her tongue just this once and not rip in to Finn with razor-barbed insults and criticism. She managed to control herself just barely, and took a deep breath before announcing,

"We may go and find sustenance now, and while we are eating, we are going over the plan of action and memorizing or route on the five different maps I've procured," Rachel insisted firmly.

"Thank you!" Finn grinned, rushing from the room. He hopped past Rachel and pushed at the door and furrowed his brow as he jiggled the handle. He turned slowly back and sent a confused look to his friends. "Doors are usually easy to open, right? I'm not having a low sugar blood moment where I forget easy stuff, right?"

"What in the hell?" Puck furrowed his brow, sidestepping Rachel and pushing Finn away from the door. He found no success and looked back at Rachel, "When did you get back?"

"I returned from my planning supply run about three hours ago," Rachel answered.

"You've been up since 4 am? Are you even human?" Quinn wondered.

"No insults," Rachel hissed at her.

"We're locked in," Puck shook his head in frustration as he shoved his shoulder at the door with all of his strength. It didn't budge and he began pounding on it. "HEY! Let us out!"

"Well boy, no can do. See you owe me an awful lot of money, seeing as you trashed my bar last night," a disembodied voice announced from the other side of the door. "And I'm getting paid back right now by a friend of yours that wants to keep you here for now. So you just sit tight and shut up."

"Oh my god," Rachel gasped. She looked between Puck and Quinn, terror growing in her eyes. "What if its Brandy Walton?"

"Oh hell no, I'm not going back to Jesus Camp," Puck grumbled. He gestured to Rachel's binder and demanded, "What've you got in there for escaping?"

"Let me look, just a moment," Rachel began paging through the serious novel length planning book.

"It couldn't be that crazy trucker, she doesn't know where we are...and she doesn't have the money to be paying for the serious wreckage we made at the bar last night," Quinn disputed, although there was the slight note of doubt in her voice.

"It could be the same guys who took Chang and Rutherford," Puck threw out. "I mean, they have to realize that we're on their tail..."

"Guys, I think you're missing a very important point here," Finn said quietly, his seriousness and gravity of tone making even Rachel look up from her contingency plans. He gave them a pitiable look and whispered, "I'm seriously _starving_."

* * *

"You ask her."

"No. YOU ask."

"I don't wanna have my balls kicked in, bro. You're all zen and shiny-haired. Fool her with your Asian trickery and get shit done for once."

"You're so racist!"

"Black people _can't_ be racist."

"That's racist!"

"Twinkle twins?"

Matt and Mike turned around in the pool to see Santana slowly pushing up her sunglasses as she lounged on a chair poolside. She took a bored breath before saying, "One of you grow a pair and ask me what you want to ask. I promise, I won't kill you until you've both served your purpose."

"Our purpose involves being sperm donors one the girls turn 35, right?" Matt murmured to Mike.

"Very true, but I'm sure we could be replaced," Mike nodded.

"SPILL IT," Santana ordered.

"Okay, so you and Brittany won like, eight thousand dollars last night, right?" Matt asked.

"Eight-thousand-five-hundred and sixty-two dollars," Brittany put in, laying out on her stomach on the pool chair next to Santana. "I won the last 15 dollars on the slot machine that had had the glittery kitties on it. It made me think that I could definitely figure out a system with the rest of the machines so that we would always win."

"That's what we'll do tonight, baby," Santana promised sweetly. She turned a harsh glare the boy's way and said in a tone completely opposite of that which she had just used on Brittany, "if you numbskulls even try to think about asking me what I did with the money Britt made me off the money I gave her, I swear to fuck all, you will drown and I will let someone much smarter and less asinine father me and Brit's racially ambiguous babies someday."

"We'll be good," Mike promised solemnly. He turned and dove into the pool, going straight to the bottom and punching Matt as hard as he could in the calf.

Matt screeched in pain before hobbling off in pursuit of his attacker. The lingered at other side of the pool, hopefully out of Santan's crazy vampire bat hearing range. Mike shook his head and whispered,

"This has something to do with Puck and Rachel."

"No shit, Chinese Sherlock," Matt rolled his eyes. "But what is she doing to them that could take all of that money?"

"I don't want to know," Mike shook his head. "This sounds like the pansy's way out of it, but for now, let's pray that they don't wind up dead."

"That is the pansy's way out," Matt accused.

"Well for now, that's what we have. Later tonight, you distract Santana by setting her into a bone-crushing fury and I'll corner Britts and see what I can get out of her about Satan's plan," Mike offered.

"That sounds good," Matt nodded. "Wait-bone-crushing fury? GET BACK HERE!"

* * *

"I'm going to die. And when I do, I want you to make sure that my mom knows that I love her. And make sure Artie takes care of my baseball card collection. Because he'll actually cherish it. Puck would just sell it and use the money to buy something nice for Rachel. And I don't want that. Not anymore."

Quinn rolled her eyes as Finn languished on the bed, looking slightly tired and a lot cranky. Certainly not _dying_. But none of them could convince him otherwise. Hours had passed with them stuck in that damned hotel room and Rachel had yet to find an out, and Puck had yet to start contributing. Something about respecting Rachel and her ideas. Quinn thought he was being a giant wimp when it came to Rachel because he wanted to desperately get into her pants. She heard Finn's stomach let out a whining growl and let out a deep exhale. Something needed to be done.

"Man-hands, drop the crazy a couple of notches and let Puck try to figure a way out," Quinn ordered.

"Excuse me? You just broke rule number one," Rachel reminded her sharply, turning a well practiced glare Quinn's way. "If you're not going to go along with my plans, I'm not going to listen to your input."

"That's fine with me, because your plans SUCK. You can't even figure out how to get us out of here," Quinn huffed. "As a matter of fact, if you hadn't taken hours color coding everything, you could have, oh I don't know, woken us up and we would have been out of here by now!"

"Girls," Puck said softly.

"Don't GIRLS them, Quinn is right!" Finn accused.

"Shut it Manboobzilla!" Puck growled, his own hunger and crankiness at being cooped up in the hotel room seriously getting to him.

"You shut it Peckasaurus!" Finn shot back.

"Keep your mammaries about you!" Puck yelled.

"BOOB FACE!" Finn yelled.

"TIT MONGER!" Puck shouted.

"JUGS A-HOY!"

"FUN BAGS!"

"BOOBIES BOOBIES BOOBIES!"

"**OH MY GOD SHUUUUUUUUUT UUUUUUUUPPPPPPPP!"**

*****_**crack**_*****

…

…

…

"What in the hell was that?" Quinn demanded, looking to the opposite side of the room where glass could be heard tinkling and smashing to the ground. "Rachel, you just broke glass with the sound of your voice, you...impressive freak-azoid."

"Can it, Fabray," Puck ordered as he walked to the other side of the room and saw that Rachel's righteous screaming had indeed shattered the glass on the hideously tacky mirror above the small table/desk in the room. Seriously, if Kurt had been along for the ride, the mirror would have been shattered from dislike five minutes after arriving. No wonder the damn thing shattered though, it was hollow behind it, a man made cubby hole in the wall. He reached in and pulled out with wide eyes a shiny, silver revolver.

"He's going to kill me," Finn whispered to Quinn.

"Paper in here too," Puck furrowed his brow. He studied them intensely for a few moments before looking up and wondering, "Why do you think someone would let a gun and the blue prints to the Bellagio Casino in here?"

"Put. It. **BACK,"** Rachel ordered. "Noah, I'm not playing. This isn't a part of the plan."

"Berry-pants, chillax," Puck murmured, studying the gun carefully, carefully taking the bullets out of the chamber. "It can't hurt the plan to have a little back up. UNLOADED back up. I'm not shooting anyone."

"Yet," Quinn quipped.

The doorknob rattled and a small commotion was heard outside as the four teenagers all simultaneously leapt towards the middle of the room, standing shoulder to shoulder. Puck put the unloaded gun in the waistband at his jeans and Rachel fussed with his t-shirt so that it wasn't noticeable. The noise of their hotel room door being unpadlocked and de-chained rattled around the room as the quartet took deep, even breaths. Slowly and without realizing it, Rachel and Quinn clutched their hands together and reached for each boy at their side.

"We're going to get out of this, guys. No matter what's on the other side," Puck whispered. He gave Rachel a smile and squeezed her hand. "I promise."

* * *

Is Mike going to get Matt killed? Or at the very least de-balled? Who is on the other side of the door? Is it a Pizza delivery for Finn's low blood sugar? How did Brittany win so much money? How often do you think she can do it before they get kicked out of the casino for card counting? Will this story end ever? _Probably not_.

Love and Glee and Cookies and then more love people. Thanks for reading!


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